Untouched
by GarGoyl
Summary: After failing to collect Ciel's soul in strange circumstances, Sebastian returns home in Underworld to brood over his misfortune. But little does he know how their fate will change now that he is no longer the butler... Yeah, you got that right ;) Rated for language, yaoi, violence and a load of crack here and there.Disclaimer - I don't own Black Butler
1. His master, lost

**UNTOUCHED**

Hello my dear readers! (uh… that may be a bit presumptuous of me to assume that I have like a followers group or something but whatever, I'll just blame it on the substance abuse..) After a looooong absence – more than one month, okay one month is not actually that long but it felt like it – I have delved into a new - previously unexplored by means of writing - fandom. So naturally, I'm really curious and excited to see how this *** will turn out, whether good or bad is ultimately for you to decide ;)

Also my darlings, as you may already know from my previous disturbing creations I am really bad and have been constantly struggling with author notes in my stories ever since the beginning of my writing for FF, which is quite a long time. Because of that, I have now made the vital decision to remove this feature completely – unless there's really something important and reasonably coherent that I want to say :)) That is to say, I will no longer try to make up for my lazy ass short chapters with long tedious author notes – like I'm doing now – and actually get to work…:)))

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

_The small boat reached the sandy, eerie shore with a light thud and I let the oar slip away from my hand. My one remaining hand, yes, but such injury… it was nothing to me. My sole arm was strong enough to carry my sweet burden, and carry him I did, across the bare, fog shrouded beach, through the deep pine forest and finally, to the ruins. But just as I placed my foot onto the worn, whitened stones before me I had this sense of foreboding… that it would be, no, that it was already a night of sadness, not just for him, but for me as well… But why should I have been sad, when I was so close to my purpose, to my fulfillment? That was what I had worked for, that was what I craved. In but a few moments my thirst would have been quenched, my long harbored hunger finally sated. _

"_We're here, master…"_

_There was no breeze, the air was still around the perfect silence. Nothing but the pale moonlight, bathing that ancient scenery into soft silvery shades. It was all… just beautiful._

"_So this is where it ends…" he concluded, his voice soft and drowsy, and I nodded. I did not see any sign yet, and nothing alerted me of the danger... How could I have known, when his spirit was as unyielding, as unfaltering as ever? Not when there was so much determination latched into his words, not when he even refused my offer to be gentle. His wish to experience the pain to its fullest, to have it etched into his very being, it almost touched me. Almost… _

_But then his head fell back onto the stone bench and his cheek was already cold under my fingers… And then, just before my mouth could claim him, his eyes closed and he was gone. He was empty. He was a soulless corpse… _

* * *

The large wooden doors gave way under the pressure of his outstretched arms, bursting open with a sinister creak followed by a thundering sound as they hit the inner walls. Breathing hard from the effort, the demon gathered his remaining strength and dragged his feet inside, into the dark, gloomy hallway. It was desolate and unsightly, this place that was his own, this old drafty stone castle that held the promise of all despair to anyone other than his own master, and maybe, unknown to the world, even to him as well. His own home felt more like a cold, unwelcoming dungeon rather than the soothing refuge he'd sought after a long, tiresome trip. His body ached with the pain of useless toil and his soul with the bleeding wound of his pride. Time was nothing to one such as himself but still, its passage left scars in its wake. And he had wasted plenty of time for the benefit of nothing - that had been the sad conclusion of his completely fruitless endeavor.

Of course, this wasn't entirely new. He had gone hungry before, when the world was younger and he himself was younger, sure, he had made mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes. But now? There was such a pestering burn of defeat and humiliation in this hunger he could not sate with petty, tasteless souls that would have made an easy dish.

_Lost… lost… how could he be lost, just like that? How could it happen, without my knowledge, without any reason…? Why? How did he just… slip away into death? I have failed… failed!_

Had it all been some clever stunt pulled on him most cruelly? And if so, who could have been the culprit? Not his young master, surely, for as much as he had known the ways of men, he had known nothing of the ways of the Underworld. _No, he's been a helpless child to the very end and I've only proven myself to be an equally helpless demon… How stupid! _Sadly, it appeared now to be as impossible as it was futile to even try to get to the bottom of the whole thing. And now, he was back here, to the place he called _home_ – the house of the Black Crow. _Indeed, there is no place like home… No place as tiresome and repulsive, that is…_

"Master, you have finally returned! For a long time we have been waiting for you…" Gentle hands slid the wet cloak off his shoulders and he allowed it with a sigh, not bothering to acknowledge their owner.

_Indeed, once more I have returned to my own solitude, to my own damnation, empty handed and unsatisfied…_

Sebastian ran a tired hand through his dampened black strands absentmindedly as he followed the hurried steps of the servant into the dim lit corridor and along the narrow, crooked staircase that led to the stone chambers constituting his private apartments. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to be left alone and allowed to brood over his misfortune.

"So… is there anything I should be aware of, now that I'm back here?" He had to ask but really hoped it wasn't, while the servant scurried around the room, starting the fire and pulling the curtains with a rapid, expert hand. Red eyes scanned the familiar environment and the Crow forced himself to believe that the little bit of comfort his layer provided was something he'd rather missed while he'd been away. At least here he would be spared of doing house chores, he thought in a rather failed attempt at positive thinking.

"Well the… Council has also impatiently awaited your return, milord," his minion explained with somewhat of a hesitation, "You know that they always have some sort of problem that they are unable to handle themselves…"

The demon dropped in an armchair with a deep throated groan in reply, shedding his dirty white gloves and burying his face in his hands. "I want to rest now, Es… I will see no one"

"As you wish, master"

* * *

Sebastian's eyes were motionless, reflecting the dancing flames from the hearth. There he was again – into that state where hot, boiling anger would eventually melt down into a tasteless boredom, rendering the demon unable and unwilling to do anything anymore. He would not as much as breathe, but for one such as himself death was incomprehensible, unreachable, simply… not possible. As much as he might have craved it in moments like this, the Black Crow could not die. No, he may have temporarily confined himself into the depths of his layer, but could not shut himself away from the world and his duties. Because on top of all his misery, he had work to do.

His time for leisure and personal pursuits was over, and now it was back to the troublesome task of taking care of the Council's endless issues. A groan escaped Sebastian's lips at the mere thought of it as he eyed the papers already piled up onto his desk. He'd been hiding in here idly for much too long, without even keeping track of hours or days, and it was time to do something.

At last he stood from the soft cushions, abandoning the pleasant warmth and stretching aching muscles in the process. His body had fully recovered by now, very much unlike his disposition which had not improved one bit. The demon took a few steps only to drop onto the harder and considerably less comfortable chair behind his small desk, and began leafing through his correspondence.

. _…bring him to us! Judgment must be upon him, for he has broken the contract! ... he has broken his contract! Find him and fetch him… now! _

Fetch. What an appropriate choice of words. Not to mention, it was a sensitive subject to begin with – this whole contract business. Even the mere word had become repulsive, he would not as much as think of it. In that moment he was ready to swear on Beelzebub's beard that he would never form another contract as long as he lived and never know such shame again.

Long fingers tossed the half crumpled sheet of paper back into the now messy pile and his jaw clenched, ever so slightly. He wasn't in the mood for this. Reluctant for yet another motion, he reached for the bell and called for his servant. His keen hearing caught the hushed whispers of his staff somewhere below and then light footsteps, drawing closer and closer. The Crow sighed, dreading the moment when he would actually have to open his mouth and speak. It seemed like such an exhausting and pointless effort.

"Yes, master…?" a voice spoke softly, accompanying the rather loud creak of the old wooden door. The demon didn't bother to spare a gaze toward the black clad figure who had remained in the doorway, looking expectant.

"Es…"

"Milord? You've been in here for quite a while now… are you alright?"

_As if something could possibly happen to me… _"The Council has sent yet another letter of notice," Sebastian said neutrally, briefly pointing to the papers in front of him. "It appears that the matter they have presented to us is quite urgent… and so obviously they want it taken care of as soon as possible"

"Indeed, so I've heard, master. They are quite pressing about it," the minion agreed, while said master continued to stare somewhere else with half lidded eyes.

"However, I have no desire to busy myself with this rather petty issue, not now and very possibly not ever…" the demon eventually went on with a sigh, "and yet the house of the Black Crow must obey the orders of the Council. So… what do you suggest we do?"

"Milord, I fear that the matter of which you speak is by no means petty… but given your predicament, I say we find someone to help with the job. Of course, no one _known_ can be contracted in this purpose and since we've been in need of an extra someone for a while now, maybe you could write to the Undertaker? He's discreet and I'm sure you'll be able to negotiate a reasonable price…"

Ruby red orbs trailed lazily to finally face the other and the Crow leaned forward onto his desk, propping his chin onto his forearms, a black nailed finger beginning to drum softly against the polished wood. "The Undertaker you say? Well… I suppose it is an option. But I will not keep it from you that I'm deeply disgusted with the stuff he sells. Those mindless, soulless puppets are revolting to say the least." he stated bluntly.

"But the Council uses them all the time, and for all sorts of purpose, master. Even to play chess – you do remember the last public match they held. Those thirty two perfectly chosen pieces..."

"Yes, it was a perfect bloodbath for the mob's entertainment. They slaughtered each other most gruesomely as I recall, but then again, I never expected the Lords to have any sense of aesthetics," Sebastian observed with a grimace. "I also rather doubt that such a person could do the job, after all Claude Faustus is not a complete idiot. But we can at least give it a try if you think it's worth it, Es"

"Milord, if you so wish, I will keep _it_ out of your sight," the minion offered with a bow.

The demon dismissed his servant with a bored wave of his hand. "Very well then, you will see it done." _As for the Undertaker, he'd do well to deliver what we ask of him…_

_**To be continued…**_


	2. His property, stolen

**CHAPTER 2**

* * *

"Uh… are you sure this is a good moment, Mr. Undertaker?" Grell whined, extracting himself reluctantly out of the carriage. The question itself was undoubtedly meant to hold deeper meaning, but the pathetic whimper in which it actually resulted failed to deliver the respective message entirely. He morosely shrunk and shivered as his long coat got almost instantly drenched under the pouring icy rain.

"Why honestly I couldn't think of a better moment, Grell. Especially since our client expects an early delivery. To be more precise, tomorrow morning," his companion confirmed with his ever present good humor as he tossed aside the reins and hopped down onto the muddy ground. He then proceeded to pull out a shovel from the bag of tools kept handy under the front seat and gave it to the red haired shinigami. Grell sighed and peeked over his wet glasses at the gloomy looking graveyard unfolding beyond the large iron gates. "Shit, dirty job and it pays shit too!" he grumbled under his breath.

"It pays better than your own, at any rate, my friend," the other pointed, picking up his own shovel and briefly patting the horse's back, "and I suppose there are dirtier jobs out there, for folks like us who'd do anything for a penny…"

Grell said nothing in reply, only gritting his teeth helpless at his own misery as he followed his senior associate. There was no one in sight ahead – and really, who could have been there at that hour - so they took the main alley, walking in silence for a short while. It was pitch dark under the clouded winter sky and nothing but the incessant rain, threatening to turn into sleet. It couldn't have been worse a weather to be out working, but the Undertaker was of course as careless as if walking into a sunny afternoon, humming a soft tune that successfully stepped onto the other shinigami's nerves. Not to mention, anyone else but him would have lost his way in the intricate labyrinth of resting places, but he had no problem whatsoever. After all, he knew too well where he'd buried the _merchandise_.

"Gah, how annoying!" the silver haired shinigami suddenly exclaimed, stopping abruptly. He then quickly slid behind a large stone monument, pulling Grell to the side with one forceful motion and causing him to squeak and drop his shovel. "Be quiet, damn it!"

"What? What is it, Mr. Undertaker?" the other demanded, already cowering and visibly frightened.

"Pffffttt…" the Undertaker dug into the inner pocket of his coat, pulling out a bone shaped biscuit and stuffing it into the corner of his mouth. "If there's one thing I truly find shitty about my job, then it is definitely all this exasperating drama!" he said shaking his head.

Grell eventually poked his head to the side and saw someone crouched over a nearby tombstone. The fragile, black clad petite frame trembled slightly as the girl sobbed, rain soaked blonde curls hanging loosely over her doll like face. "Why it's… Lady Elizabeth! What is she doing here at this hour? It's almost midnight! And in such dreadful weather!" he whispered in utter surprise. His rhetorical question remained unanswered as his companion shrugged and busied himself with another biscuit.

"Uh… I have to ask again, Mr. Undertaker, are you absolutely sure that this is a good idea?" Grell reiterated his persistent concern. "I mean nobody's done this before… And the poor girl, I mean he was her fiancée after all… so it seems rather unfair under the circumstances and-"

"If by 'nobody has done this before' you mean yourself, then you can stick to that statement Grell," the other shinigami interrupted him rolling his eyes, "and as for the circumstances you mentioned, as you well know death is the end of all engagements, marriages and other such sinister deals, so to put it bluntly she has no more _contractual rights_ in this matter."

"Wha- ! How can you be so insensitive!?" the redhead protested, but the Undertaker waved his hand in dismissal. "Stupid little girl, leave already, we don't have all night! What the hell?" he then grumbled with a scowl, tapping his foot impatient. "Grell, get rid of her!"

* * *

The silver haired shinigami cast the shovel aside with a huff and brushed the remaining dirt from the lid with the back of his hand, before it would turn rapidly into mud as well. Everything was intact. He took a break from his work, pulling off his dirty gloves and tossing them aside.

"Oh… so here goes nothing, huh?" his associate mused out loud from the side, peeking over his shoulder.

"You sure took your time, Grell. What the hell did you do exactly? Which part of 'we're under a tight schedule' did you not understand?" the Undertaker scolded him. "You know that this is not_ it_, the process will take some time as well! I do have a reputation to maintain, so quality must come first. I won't cut any corners with this one"

"Well I'm sorry, Mr. Undertaker, but I had to make sure that Lady Elizabeth got home safely… even though she'll probably be clueless of how she got there, or maybe she'll have no memory of tonight at all… Ah!" The redhead gasped as his companion pulled a small phial out of his pocket and held it up.

"Well how chivalrous of you, Grell," the other observed ironically, "now why don't you hop in and join the fun?" he invited with a polite gesture. The red haired shinigami obeyed reluctantly, with a look of disgust as his long coat made contact with the muddy hole. He picked up the Undertaker's abandoned shovel and smashed it with full force against the coffin's joints until they gave way. His hands then moved to push the lid aside, slowly, almost with unneeded gentleness. The sight that met his eyes was at least unsettling and it became even more so as the rain began to soak the object of their toil, dampening the late Earl Phantomhive's dainty dark hair, large droplets splashing and sliding down like bitter tears onto his porcelain face.

"Oh, Mr. Undertaker, this will end badly!" he whined suddenly, palms pressed pathetically against his chest. "What if you-know-who will find out? What then? Oh my, it will be terrible, terrible!"

The silver haired shinigami clicked his tongue in annoyance and grumbled something insulting while pushing Grell out of the way, and he stooped above his prey. "Now stop bugging me and just hold his head like this, will you?" Maneuvering the small, fragile looking body was something that Grell was even less willing to do – I mean doing this to someone you _knew_, really, how awful! – but he had no choice. The Undertaker's long nailed fingers carefully parted the pale lips while his other thumb flicked the phial's cork open.

"Thaaaat's it, bottoms up, tehehehe…" he chuckled as the blue iridescent liquid –if that was indeed what that thing was - was gradually drained from the recipient. His grin grew even wider as a few moments later a light steam was emitted into the cold air when his prey drew his first breath.

"Oh, my!" Grell could not fight back a gasp of surprise.

* * *

Exhausted and chagrined after the horrid night, Grell sighed again, vigorously wiping his glasses. The Undertaker was humming that annoying tune again, while preparing his tools, and the redhead shuddered at the sight of the needles. "I almost find it hard to believe that Bassy's not here – I'd really gotten used to him…" he mused, just to take his mind off the present situation. "I bet he's upset and bored, wherever he may be…"

"I wouldn't worry, he won't be bored for long I daresay," his associate snickered. "As a matter of fact I'm sure-" The Undertaker was interrupted when a sudden noise of breaking glass alerted him. "What do you know, looks like our guest is finally awake!"

* * *

His head swam in dizziness as his vision gradually cleared, allowing the boy to take in his surroundings. It was like waking from a long, deep sleep full of bad dreams that had taken its toll on his worn body. His flesh felt cold and painful in the still soaked clothing, the leather straps tightly secured over his chest and stomach, as well as the cuffs around his wrists and ankles only adding to the discomfort. Well, if this wasn't a rude awakening, in the Undertaker's laboratory no less. Indeed, Ciel would have recognized that place anytime, disturbing as it was.

_Just what the hell happened to me? Why am I here?_

The boy kicked his right leg in annoyance, despite the restraints, managing to knock over a jar that had been left carelessly at his feet at the end of the cold, metal table. The startling noise instantly cut the conversation he could distinguish in the adjacent room. One of the voices had unmistakably been the Undertaker's, and the other was… Grell?

"Ah, little earl, still troublesome, are you?" The silver haired shinigami chuckled shaking his head, as he pushed the shards away with his foot and stooped over Ciel with a large grin.

"What is the meaning of this, Undertaker? Release me!" the boy spat in reply, struggling to keep up a confident façade. But something was definitely wrong, otherwise he and Grell would have never dared to- _Wait! Sebastian's not here!_ _But… why?_ "If you don't want to suffer the consequences, you will let me go at once!"

"Right, about that… I think there is a little detail that we need to clarify before anything else," the Undertaker answered the one question that had been left unasked, by rummaging through a drawer and pulling out a small mirror. He held it up right above Ciel's face. "Look carefully, milord…"

Ciel involuntarily flinched at the sight of his own reflection – his face was unusually pale, even for his complexion, and there were deep dark circles around his eyes, making the color stick out in an odd manner. And there was something else about his eyes as well… _The seal! It's gone!_ Terror instantly filled the young earl upon the realization, his mind reeling in search for an explanation. But there was none, unless…

"You're dead, young master," the Undertaker explained calmly, as if it were the most common thing in the world, "And since there's no more contract, _nobody_ will be coming for you now. You belong to me."

Ciel blinked – it didn't make any sense. _Dead? That just can't be, can't be! Yet the seal is gone… _"What do you mean, 'I belong to you'? Even without Sebastian, you can't claim me just like that!" he shouted. "The-.. My servants will be looking for me! My fiancée will be looking for me!"

At his words the silver haired shinigami burst into laughter, and even Grell allowed himself a snicker. "Well see, that's the thing earl, precisely because you're dead no one will be looking for you! And you can't blame them, really… why would they? Who would have any use for you now? You're a corpse and I've simply resurrected you, just like I do all my puppets," the Undertaker lied, pointing at the several closed coffins scattered around the room. "See I make good money from selling pretty dead things like you to willing customers – especially down in Underworld, where folks ain't particularly picky, hehehe!"

"This is ridiculous! You can't genuinely expect me to believe this!" Ciel gritted his teeth, struggling against the binds and holding up the defiant act, although he had already understood too well that he was done with. _Damn it! What do they really want with me? _There was nothing worse than the unknown.

"To be honest, I neither expect nor do I care whether you believe me or not." the body snatcher waved his hand carelessly as he proceeded to fumble in one of his cabinets. "Grell, I will need you to hold him down, you know we can't afford any accidents." The redhead acted without delay, pressing down his torso over Ciel's, while one of his hands covered the boy's mouth and held his head still. The Undertaker extracted one thinner needle from his sinister collection and promptly used to pierce the earl's right earlobe. He then picked up something that looked very much like a metal, skull shaped earring bud, and inserted it right in the still oozing wound.

"You know, I normally use such a device to give my puppets 'some energy', but it looks like you have too much already, milord," the shinigami explained as he worked, "so this will fix our problem." he added motioning for Grell to step away.

Ciel wanted to scream – the pain irradiating from the accursed earring into his skull was horrible – but found himself only able to let out something like a coarse, faint groan. As his limbs gradually became limp and lifeless, his thoughts slowed as well. _This… is not… real. It… must be… a nightmare_… The other shinigami unfastened the leather straps from around his body, and removed the cuffs as well. Not that it did any good, his body would simply lie there, still as death. _Not again… not this again… _the earl murmured inwardly as the Undertaker busied himself to remove all his clothing, adding the discomforting sensation of the cold metal against his damp skin. Ciel briefly wondered with sick curiosity whether the Undertaker would attempt anything…_ improper_, but the shinigami was a professional. Grell turned away, averting his gaze, and walked to the other room when his associate began sticking the silver needles of various girths and lengths into Ciel's body. The pain only got worse as his ankles, knees, wrists, shoulders, as well as various points on his torso were mercilessly pierced.

"What are you doing to me?" the boy whispered, eyes tearing from the torment he could not even let out.

"Well, milord, I'm afraid that your little body may be cute and dainty and all, but it _is_ quite useless. Therefore to prepare you for the purpose I have to make some improvements…" The undertaker interrupted his ministrations to wipe away Ciel's tears with a clean cloth, and sighed. "Oh, I know it hurts, but we have to… It'll pass soon, and you will go back to sleep"

_Will… go… back… to sleep… I will… go… back… to sleep… _Those were the young earl's last thoughts before everything went black once more.

_**To be continued…**_


	3. His order, messed up

**CHAPTER 3**

**Okay guys, I know I've promised not to bug you with tedious rants and I won't (not today at least :))). Just wanted to express my appreciation for all your reviews, favorites and follows that make my day and - like someone here on FF mentioned on their profile – give a super warm and fuzzy feeling! Thank you so much!**

* * *

The inside of what appeared to be an old, poorly looking carriage. On the opposite seat, Grell was examining his nails with a bored expression, ignoring anything else. Ciel forced his still highly unresponsive body into an upright position, awkwardly swinging his legs over the edge of the worn seat. He let out a soft grunt as the memories of recent events came back to him with surprising clarity, bringing about more questions than answers, and his hand instinctively flew up to feel the accursed jewel now adorning his right ear. However, his fingers barely brushed against the skull shaped bud before Grell's voice interrupted his train of thought.

"No, do not touch it, milord! If you even try as much as pull on it, the pain will make you pass out again!" the red haired shinigami quickly explained in a high pitched voice.

Ciel's hand fell limp into his lap and he momentarily decided against further movement, instead throwing a deadly glare at his travel companion. _Improvements? He calls this an 'improvement'? What an utter joke! _he pondered ironically and somewhat bitterly at the Undertaker's previous explanation, which seemed highly unlikely given the current state of his body. If anything, it was even more useless than usual. Indeed, now he was able to move, but only barely and his limbs were still pretty much numb. His appearance must have been dreadful as well, as far as he recalled the unsightly reflection of his face in Undertaker's mirror, and his clothes were creased and stained with dried mud. Well, at least they were dry now and an old cloak had been wrapped around him to keep him warm. Sort of.

"Where are we going?" he demanded with a scowl, but the firmness he'd wished to imprint to his voice was lost in a faint whisper.

"Well, like the Undertaker has already briefly explained, you will be sold as a servant to a household in Underworld," Grell replied without much enthusiasm. "In fact, we are to deliver you this very morning, so that's where we're going, _young master_…"

_So he was telling the truth, the bastard! Underworld? What kind of damned place is that? _Ciel glanced outside_, _at the unfolding landscape, but all he could see on both sides was a dark, ghastly forest, almost impenetrable by daylight. A thick, eerie fog floated above the ground, blurring the contours of the blackened trunks and of the crooked, leafless branches.

"You know, earl," the shinigami suddenly said, pushing his glasses higher up his nose, " I'm glad you've awoken before our arrival, because there are a few things you should know about your new _life_… I've worked as a servant in Underworld too for a while, when I was very young – and it's a shit job that brings nothing else beyond a meager meal and a makeshift bed. It's far worse than being a reaper or a body snatcher, it's really, really bad… Now I know what you're thinking – that you don't mind dying all over again, for good this time, but death is a mercy you will not be granted so easily. If you displease your master or disobey them in any way, they will torture you until they break you."

The boy only let out an ironic snort in reply and fixed his gaze upon the depressing view outside, pressing his lips tighter. _Trying to frighten a dead man, how pathetic even of you!_

"I am very serious, Ciel," Grell went on with a sigh. "You spoiled brat have a nasty little mouth, and you'd better learn to keep it shut. As a servant there is no talking unasked, no giving an attitude, no 'I don't want to'. There isn't even 'I can't'. The rule is quite simple – you _can_ and you _will_."

The young earl's frown only deepened and he remained silent, but he knew that Grell was most likely telling the truth. Well, a horrible fate had always awaited him one way or the other, and this was simply more horrible than anticipated, to put it bluntly. And there was no escape in sight, at least not now. Ciel resolved that for the moment he would not let fear overwhelm him, he would not give them this perverse satisfaction, no! Instead, he tried to distract himself with different thoughts. For example… where was Sebastian now? And what _the hell_ was he doing? _What the hell do demons do anyway? He must be pissed… or maybe just looking for some other soul to contract and then feast upon…_

A different reason for distraction soon came up as the carriage passed through some large, rusty gates, and eventually entered what seemed to be a town. Grell let out a pained groan at the sight and rubbed his brow vigorously. Odd looking buildings of various sizes and shapes, but all of them made from the same large, ugly and blackened bricks were scattered randomly on each side of the winding narrow street they were currently following. Cloaked, hooded figures roamed hurriedly on the sidewalks, and suspicious glances were cast at the Undertaker's carriage from time to time. Ciel's observations were brusquely interrupted when the carriage stopped abruptly, the sudden jolt nearly throwing him off his seat. Grell was pushed forward and bumped his head on the inside of the door, his glasses flying off his nose, but his whimpers were soon lost in the pandemonium of swears that broke outside as a result of the incident.

"Underworld or Upperworld, idiots all the same and all over the place!" the Undertaker shouted. "What the fuck is wrong with you, pumpkinheads? What do you think this is, fucking Halloween? Watch where the fuck you're going!" Some equally insulting remarks were served to him in reply by a coarse, angry voice, as a larger carriage pulled by two pairs of well-groomed black horses pushed its way in the other direction, splashing mud as far as the inside of their own vehicle.

"Oh, no! Seriously, what the hell…?" Grell whined, as his pristine white shirt and the glasses he'd just picked up were hit in full with a disgusting, smelly load of slime. "Please, please, let's just get this over with, can we?"

"Hey, Grell!" the Undertaker unexpectedly poked his head inside. "Oh, good morning earl…" he added with a ridiculous grin, lifting up his hat in mocked courtesy. "I'm afraid that one of the front wheels is completely done for, so we'll have to continue our little journey on foot…"

"_WHAT_? You want us to walk!? In _that_?" Grell jumped, pointing at the muddy sidewalk. "These are my best boots, and my best trousers! Not to mention, we will get to meet our client looking like utter shit! We'll make a terrible impression!"

"Oh calamity! You know we can't hire a ride because none of these good for nothing shits will take us to the estate so guess what, unless you can miraculously fix this crap, we're walking to my shop in town and that's final!" the Undertaker concluded annoyed. "In fact, you'll stay here and see this shit fixed, because we can't just bloody leave it in the middle of the road like that!"

* * *

The Undertaker's shop in Underworld was every bit as sinister as the one he ran in London, if not more. The owner unlocked and pushed the creaking door open with a bit of an effort, and let himself in.

"What a spectacular shit that was!" the silver haired shinigami stated, letting go of Ciel's hand. "I hate Mondays. Everything works like shit on Mondays, it's just horrible! Horrible!" He walked up to his counter and then looked back at the young earl, who had remained standing in the middle of the room, catching his breath. It hadn't been a particularly fast or long walk, but the spell still pretty much impeded Ciel's movements, mainly in the purpose of preventing any escape attempts, and so it had strained him way more than usual.

"Oh my! Tired already, _young master_? Now why don't you come sit over here until I figure out how we'll make it to that bloody estate…" the Undertaker suggested, pointing towards a plain wooden bench nearby. The shinigami then rummaged under his counter and produced a jar of bone shaped biscuits, which he promptly pushed in the boy's direction. "There, you must be hungry. Eat while you can, earl, I can't testify as to the quality of their cuisine over there, it might not be very refined… hehehe"

Ciel glanced reluctantly at the offered biscuits, the mere thought that they'd been made by the Undertaker was repulsive enough. And God knew what ingredients that loon might have used… But he _was_ hungry, now that he thought of it, damn! He picked one from the jar with two fingers, examining it with disdain before eventually deciding to put it in his mouth. It was dry, with only very vague traces of sweetness and no flavor other than something old and dusty. _Awful_…

Suddenly the doorbell rang, and the first customer of the day made his appearance. The man, wrapped in a dark ragged cloth that could hardly qualify as a cloak, advanced shyly with the hat in his hand. "Hello there, Mr. Undertaker…"

"Ah, Mr. Krech!" the shinigami acknowledged him with a grin. "Let me guess, you came all the way here, and this early mind you, to tell me that you still can't pay for that bloody coffin! And the cheapest model, than one was!"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Undertaker… ye know I don't make much… and my family ye know… and the business going bad, no one takes the carriage these days, they all walk yes they are…"

But then the Undertaker had a sudden idea, and he clapped his hands excitedly. "Suppose I can write off your debt, Mr. Krech, but you'll have to give us a ride in that carriage of yours. Right now!" Instead of showing relief at the news, the customer fumbled with the hat in his hands, and fidgeted uncomfortably. "And where might ye be going, Mr. Undertaker?" the man asked rather unsettled.

* * *

"Damn, shit ride from a shit customer!" the silver haired shinigami complained as he shifted to find a more comfortable position on the cushionless seat, which was nothing but bare cracked wood. On Ciel's side the torn cushion still endured, but it was sunken in the middle and the young earl could swear he felt a spring about to pop digging into his backside. "And the fuss he made about going to the estate! For fuck's sake, they won't eat him or anything! Stupid mongrel!"

The carriage sped through the narrow, muddy streets of the town, and soon enough left them behind. Some more forest landscape followed, and it seemed to get darker and darker. The winding road turned into a narrow path that seemed to lead nowhere, and the silver haired shinigami had to threaten the reluctant Mr. Krech in order to persuade him to go any further.

"Well, I reckon this is it, Mr. Undertaker…" Mr. Krech announced eventually, as the carriage came to a halt with a foreboding creak. The shinigami slipped out as gracefully as he could under the circumstances, and held his hand out for his companion. "We're here, _milord_, hop down … thaaat's it, carefully now," he instructed, briefly checking his pocket watch. "Ah shit! We're late…"

"Now you wait here, Mr. Krech, this will only take a moment," the Undertaker then said out loud, before pulling the earl's hand again. Ciel had remained motionless, staring at the ancient looking building that resembled a castle, had it not been so oddly misshaped and crooked. Its dark color stood out from among the leafless trees, at least where the large blackened blocks of stone were still uncovered by thick brownish moss. It looked poorly kept and appeared deserted, and no light was visible through the tall and narrow windows.

"This, _earl_, is the Black Crow's estate," the shinigami explained. "He is your new master." _Pffft... a fitting name indeed_ Ciel pondered, observing the multitude of crows perched up in the trees all around the castle as far as he could see and even into the crevices of the old walls. They were so many that they almost looked menacing.

The Undertaker dragged his 'merchandise' to the only entrance in sight – which seemed to be a back door of sorts – and rang the bell. The noise resounded inside as if in some hollow space, but no movement was heard for a rather long while. In the end, the shinigami lost his patience and began knocking vigorously with his fist, until the dried and chipping paint started to come off the old wood. Eventually the door swung open and a young woman appeared in the frame, her blunt expression briefly turning into slight puzzlement as her gaze wandered back and forth between the chips of dried paint that were still clinging onto the Undertaker's sleeve and the door itself.

"Oh, good morning, milady!" the shinigami greeted with a bow, lifting up his hat in reverence. The newcomer measured him disdainfully, an expression of disgust and boredom imprinted on her pale features. She wasn't nearly as tall as the shinigami, and so she glanced slightly upwards at him, but her still slender frame appeared solid under the full-black velvet garments which perfectly matched the color of her long braid. And apparently, the Undertaker could tell when someone looked dangerous enough not to be messed with, so he took a step back.

"May be good for you… And it's hardly morning anymore, Mr. Undertaker"

"Ah, yes… I am terribly sorry about that, my deepest apologies. It's just that we had a little accident on the way and it has delayed us a great deal… "

The minion moved to the side, peeking past the silver haired shinigami's frame, and her onyx colored eyes gave Ciel a once over before returning to their supplier. "If _this _is what you brought my master, looks like you might have another…"

"Why would you say that? the Undertaker asked in a sweet voice. "Oh, the hearts of women, always fickle and cruel. I can assure you that this is exactly what your master ordered!"

"Did you drink gas, Undertaker? My master ordered a mercenary! What the hell is this?"

"Oh, milady, but you see, _that_ term is completely outdated!" the shinigami pointed good humored, oblivious to his client's demeanor. "The trendy term nowadays is _butler_. Anyone who claims to be even a bit in fashion has a _butler – _someone who can wield a sword, fire a gun or a crossbow as skillfully as they serve the finest blend of tea and cook the finest meals, or effectively carry out any sort of house chores. And I have created a superb butler, just for your master!" he declared, pressing his hands humbly against his chest.

The minion's frown slowly melted into an expression of amusement. "I think you're looking for it, Mr. Undertaker… don't say I haven't warned you…" she replied, shaking her head.

"Right, I consider myself warned beautiful, hehehehe… "the shinigami laughed. "Come here now, _earl_, say hello to the nice lady," he then nudged Ciel forward, but despite his suggestive elbowing all he got from the boy was a stubborn silence.

"Oh, I'm afraid he's a bit shy, hehehe… Anyway, this is Ciel Phantomhive, your new _butler_!"

_**To be continued…**_


	4. His patience, tested

**CHAPTER 4**

**Okay so, for some reason, this chapter came out longer than usual… Enjoy! (and yes, the meeting does take place in this chapter ;))**

* * *

Ciel had a sudden protruding sense of horror once the door was eventually slammed in Undertaker's face. Not that it wasn't somewhat of a relief to be finally away from that creep, but 'better the devil you know'. He remained motionless for a few moments, before daring to look up at the other servant, who also seemed to be in a state of incertitude as to what to do next.

"Right…" she spoke at last, leading the way through the dim lit hall, "This is the House of the Black Crow, and I am his right hand, _Espiritus_. You'd do well to remember that, because you will answer to me, just like everyone else around here."

The young earl looked up at her again. _His right hand, eh?_ What sort of lord had a woman as his _right hand_, and one as young and pretty as that one, despite the sobriety of her black clothes (although that probably didn't mean anything, since everyone seemed to be wearing black in Underworld), unless by 'right hand' she meant something quite different than what he'd initially thought.

"What kind of name is _Ciel Phantom…hive_ anyway?" Espiritus suddenly asked, interrupting his musings.

"Just a name…" he replied dryly, dragging his feet across the stone floor. If he wasn't tired already, he knew he was going to be soon enough. How on Earth did the Undertaker expect him to be able to do _anything_ in this state? It was all because of that damned jewel, but still he would not risk touching it. Did his new masters know of it? Maybe they didn't… maybe-

"Come along now, this way"

They had finally reached the castle's main hall, and the minion did not allow Ciel enough time to get a good look around. Not that there was much to see to begin with, just a cold and gloomy stone hall lit by torches, where decorations were kept to a minimum, and which had a large, slightly crooked staircase in the middle, leading to the upper floors.

"Are you taking me to see my new master?" the boy asked, his voice cracking the slightest bit as he half dreaded a positive answer. For what kind of lord dwelled in such a place? Besides, knowing the Undertaker and his perverse sense of humor to say the least, Ciel had a strong suspicion that he'd been sold to some gruesome character that would make his _afterlife_ a living hell.

"No," Espiritus replied neutrally, "Master has no desire to see you. In fact, he has specifically requested me to keep you out of his sight. I'll be taking you to where the other servants are."

_He doesn't want to see me at all? But why? That's odd…_

Yet the young earl barely had any time to breathe in relief – if there was any relief in that - before he was further and hurriedly led through a door under the large staircase and then down some much narrower and positively treacherous stairs into the bowels of the castle. The level where the servants' quarters – and apparently, the kitchens as well – were located looked like some nightmarish dungeon, dark and damp, and a horrible food smell hit Ciel's nostrils as soon as they were at the bottom of the stairs. The minion scowled upon the discovery and grumbled a nasty, quite unladylike swear under her breath.

* * *

If the rest of the castle so far had seemed unsightly to the young earl, the kitchen was truly a hellish place. Most of the light inside came from the enormous fireplace that was used for cooking, and which was decorated with various and rather sinister looking utensils, while the rest of the room was only vaguely lit by randomly scattered candles. There were no windows visible anywhere. The darkness wasn't such a bad thing though, since the walls were smoked and stained all over, and the only furniture was represented by a row of poorly nailed shelves, some old cupboards, a few stools and a simple long table, all made from the same raw, unpolished wood.

"What the hell have you done in here, _again_?" Espiritus questioned coldly, directly eyeing the hag who was currently mending a boiling cauldron placed above the fire, which apparently was the source of the horrible stench. "Anyway, listen up everyone!" At the sound of her voice two more figures stirred from the remote corners of the said kitchen – a hunchbacked man with a grumpy countenance and an olive skinned, curly haired younger lad. Both of them and the hag were also wearing black, but the younger's clothes were somehow better looking than the rags of the other two.

"This is Ciel Phantom-… whatever, just Ciel. He was just brought in to join our household as the new butler, so from now on you will treat him as such." the minion ordered sternly.

"Bullshit I say!" the hunchback jumped. "Do you think we don't know where he came from? I saw the carriage myself earlier, yes I did! And that bloody Undertaker too! He's one of his puppets, isn't that right, Mrs. Jones?!"

"Yes it is! We don't want the body snatcher's _dead things_ in here!" the hag joined him."We don't want him here, you got that? New_ butler_ you say! What the hell do we need a butler for, eh? Why can't _I_ serve master tea and scones, if he wants tea and scones now, eh?" she yelled, gesturing menacingly with a long spoon.

"Yeah, my wife can do than just fine, why can't she? Or I…" Mr. Jones supplied. "We have served him for so long and now you bring this bloody pipsqueak with a stick up his ass to be master's _butler_! That's not right at all!"

While Ciel had taken a few steps back, rather frightened of the sudden and gratuitous hostility he was faced with, Espiritus watched them both with increasing irritation, yet allowed them to finish their ranting before she replied. "Shut up! I am here to fulfill master's wishes, and whatever master wants, master _will get_! If master wants a new butler to serve him, he _will_ have a new butler to serve him, whether you like it or not! And _you_ cannot serve master tea, or anything else, because you're such an _eyesore _that even the body snatcher's dead things are better than you!"

The insult was apparently perplexing enough to silence the pair, at least for the moment.

"Will? Come with me," Espiritus said, motioning towards the shy looking, curly haired young man, who had remained silent through all the commotion and bore a somewhat horror stricken expression, and he followed them obediently out of the infernal kitchen. As soon as the man stepped out, the minion slammed the kitchen door shut and spun a large key in the lock. "There, that will teach you to mess with me again, you demented shits! What the hell crawled up their ass and died anyway?"

"Oh, you know how they are…." Will eventually dared to open his mouth. "And now they'll hate me because you didn't lock me up too…"

Espiritus rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively. "Well, if they didn't hate you for this, they'd just hate you for something else, so it doesn't matter, does it? Especially since I've decided you won't be staying with them anymore. Now come, we'll go upstairs and make some arrangements for the both of you"

And that's when it eventually happened – half way up the stairs to the ground level Ciel's breath left him for good, and he dropped to his knees, helplessly clutching at his chest and gasping for air. Thankfully, Will promptly scooped him up with surprisingly strong arms, while the minion shook her head. "Stupid Undertaker, doing shit job! He's bloody looking for it, I swear…" she grumbled.

They made their way up to the castle's first floor, and here things already looked better. A long woolen rug was stretched along the stone floor of the corridor and even if the walls were bare, at least the torch handles looked clean and polished. The windows allowed plenty of light to pour in from the outside, which was definitely a welcomed change from the depressing darkness that ruled below. Espiritus led them into some pleasant looking quarters, consisting of a small living and of a bedroom which turned out to be hers. The rooms were cozy, with a large fireplace, carpets and curtains that – even if not of the best quality - made them look decent enough.

"Just put him down over there," she instructed, and Ciel was carefully laid onto the soft cushions of the sofa. "We'll be needing some hot water and a change of clothes, preferably his size," she added, "so see what you can do, Will". Once the other servant was out, the minion kneeled in front of the sofa and grabbed the earl's chin, turning his head to the side to inspect his ear.

"Now, I believe this is the source of trouble…" Espiritus observed, lifting her hand towards the accursed earring bud, when the boy's fingers suddenly gripped her wrist. "No, don't touch it!" Ciel almost shouted, before remembering Grell's words and deciding that it was probably a bad idea. "P-please…" he whispered, "it-it will hurt very badly, that's what he said…"

"I think he meant that it would hurt if _you_ touched it," she replied calmly, "but there should be no problem if I do it. And see," she added, gently flicking his earlobe with the tips of her fingers," it's screwed too tightly, that's why you can't move much and get tired so easily. I will loosen it up a bit and you should be just fine now…"

Ciel squeezed his eyes shut and mentally braced for that horrid pain, but it never came. Instead, a rather relaxing feeling of ease and even a bit of drowsiness took over him. "There, better already, eh? Undertaker must have been afraid that you would escape him, what with that lazy ass of his and- " Espiritus was interrupted when a bell rang somewhere above them, the sound reverberating oddly through the stone walls.

"Will," she addressed the other servant, who was back and standing in the doorway with a bundle under one arm and a copper bowl in the other, "have him cleaned up and changed. Master has called for me now, I must see to it right away!"

* * *

The minion let herself in quietly into her master's study, because if anything he really hated unnecessary noise, and found the demon perched up casually onto the high window sill, glancing somewhere outside. Her eyes fell onto the silver cup that lay spilled onto the carpet beside his desk and she rolled her eyes before composing a more polite countenance.

"Master, I see that you have finally managed to move away from your desk… now that's a progress, isn't it?" she spoke with a hidden hint of irony as she moved to pick up the fallen cup from the floor. Fortunately, it had been just water in it.

"Indeed… but only because I was under the impression that I saw something strange a bit earlier," Sebastian said with an unreadable expression, slipping down from his seat and returning to his chair. "I was wondering if you know anything about that?"

"Well milord, if you think that you saw something strange, how could anyone dare question it?" the minion replied with an awkward shrug."Oh, by the way, the Undertaker has dropped by to deliver your order. He says… um…that's exactly what you wanted, although I do have some doubts about it…"

There was a small, finely carved chessboard laid out onto the demon's desk and his long fingers hovered above the tiny black pieces, as if undecided which one to choose. "Could it be that he brought us a _knight_?" he wondered, holding up the respective piece in the air.

"Eh…master, you know what they say – if one pays a lot of money, there's always a chance that they might get shit for it, but if one pays shit to begin with, then it's guaranteed…" the minion replied. Sebastian sighed facing the chessboard, placing the piece back careful not to disturb the others. "A pawn then…? Bring it to me Es, I need to see it for myself and determine how bad it is. You know, we cannot afford to waste too much time before we actually decide to make a move"

"Oh? I thought you'd rather be spared of such sight, milord?" Espiritus asked surprised, but as the demon said nothing more, she nodded. "Very well, I shall bring it to you right away!"

* * *

Will didn't talk much but he was gentle and worked efficiently, Ciel decided, after the other servant had finished cleaning him up as best as he could with warm water, a bit of soap and a clean cloth, and had put him into a set of fresh clothes. They weren't much and they could have used some further adjustments, but the fabrics were soft enough and comfortable. And of course, everything was black – the shirt, the overcoat, the breeches and the knee high boots. Will even allowed him to go and look at himself in the tall mirror Espiritus had in her bedroom.

_Yeah, the clothes are fine, I suppose… the rest is the problem… _the earl pondered a bit gloomily upon inspecting his appearance. His face had the same unsightly pale color that almost tended to light grey, darkened around his eyes. And the missing seal, for some reason that unsettled him still and caused the boy to involuntarily cover his right eye with his hand, fingers digging helplessly into the furrowed brow. _Sebastian… _

He knew of course that it was stupid to regret the demon's absence in any way and it was rather amusing to consider how his former 'one hell of a butler' had gotten screwed with the contract and everything, but still… he had that feeling of void, of sheer hollow, left behind by a pain or a burden one has suffered or carried for a very long time and it's suddenly gone at last…_ He's gone, that demon is gone and I have other problems now…_

"Hey! You alright?" Ciel finally snapped out of it when a hand was placed onto his shoulder and saw that Espiritus had returned. "You know Will, a long time ago mankind has invented this very useful tool called a hair comb," she then said picking the respective object off her vanity table and proceeding to run it a couple of times through the young earl's strands," so maybe it's time you discovered it too. Just saying…"

The other servant simply ran his fingers through his own rebellious curls and laughed sheepishly.

"You're all ready now, Ciel. Come, master has changed his mind. He wants to see you after all," the minion announced.

* * *

The second floor - containing the lord's apartments – and which was (strangely enough) accessible only through a narrow staircase that would have gone completely unnoticed to an outsider, was almost as dark as the servants' level below the ground. The windows of the corridor were covered by thick velvet curtains filtering most of the light, and the dark wooden wainscots covering the walls only added to the impression. The young earl pondered that this must have been some oddity of the respective lord, who probably hated light for some reason, or maybe preferred to hide himself in the dark? _Oh joy, that's probably it, the damned Undertaker has sold me to a monster… _he decided morosely_._

"I have to say, this is a bit unusual," Espiritus said suddenly, "Normally master will only see me, no one else…"

_I wonder why that is…_ Ciel grumbled inwardly, his suspicions only strengthened by that particular statement. _If he's a monster, of course he doesn't want to _be seen_ by anyone else but his most trusted servant. But she could at least warn me, damn it!_

"Here it is, anyway," the minion pointed towards one of the large doors, "This is his study. Make sure you behave now, okay?"

"Wait, Es-piritus…!" Ciel gripped her hand just as she was pressing the knob."Is there something I should know about master? Like, maybe… he's a…um… he's a…what is he exactly? See, the Undertaker said that the lord is a… a _monster_?" he finally dared, uttering the last word in the lowest voice possible.

The minion glanced down at him with an amused expression. "That's just ridiculous! Master's not a _monster_, he's just a demon"

"Oh, just a… _WHA_-?!" But then the door was opened and Ciel was confronted with the one sight he really wasn't expecting and which instantly made his stomach cringe. Sebastian was sat at his small desk, chin propped onto the heel of his palm, with a look of distaste plastered all over his beautiful features, and which didn't change in the slightest as his two servants walked in.

_So, it was you after all, I should have known! Was all this tasteless farce really necessary, just to bring me here and devour my soul? How pathetic! _Ciel wanted to spit into the demon's face, but terror choked him and his lips remained sealed, only his eyes widened in utter horror, all the more since the expression of those ruby red orbs boring into his for the briefest moment remained completely unchanged.

"Well, this is it, milord," Espiritus made the introduction, totally unsuspecting of the unfolding drama. Sebastian gave his former master a quick once over, before averting his gaze toward his minion, and the palm that had rested onto his cheek was slowly scrubbed over his face before resuming its previous position.

"And how exactly is _this_," he eventually asked calmly, pointing a finger in Ciel's direction "what we ordered?"

Espiritus cleared her voice a bit nervous. "Eheh… well, master, the Undertaker said – and I quote – the term 'mercenary' is completely outdated and anyone who claims to be even a bit in fashion has a _butler – _someone who can use a weapon as skillfully as they serve the finest blend of tea and cook the finest meals, or whatever it is that butlers do, and that he has created a _superb butler_, just for you, master…"

"Oh my, really?" the demon said bluntly, eyeing his new servant once more. "Mr. Undertaker _created_ this for me, how interesting… well, that surely explains a lot…" he added in the same neutral tone, but this time with a hint of menace. "You know, Es, from all the bad jokes that have ever been played to me – and there were plenty- this has to be one of the worst, but I'll tell you what," Sebastian stated, suddenly standing up to full height such that his shadow seemed to engulf Ciel entirely, "I know that we can't send him back or ask for a refund, but if he doesn't do the job we bought him for, the Undertaker will discover that I'm simply _one hell of a client_, and _something very bad _will happen to both him and his 'merchandise'!"

"But milord…?"

"Get out! Both of you, get out! _NOW_!"

_**To be continued…**_


	5. His butler, assignment

**CHAPTER 5**

* * *

Ciel jumped abruptly from his slumber at the sudden knock on his door and sat up in the small cot, burying his face in his hands. His head throbbed and at first the earl had some trouble figuring out where he was. A few rays of pale light were breaking through the small window of the closet that was now his room, indicating that it was already morning.

"Wake up, you! It's late already and we've got things to do!" a voice resounded outside and he heard some movement in Will's room, which was adjacent to his own.

"Nggghhh…" Ciel groaned ill-humored as he tossed the covers aside and glanced down at the oversized shirt that now served as his nightgown, before peeling it off reluctantly. It was rather cold and he hurried to get dressed as quickly as he could – if only for that reason alone – but the cruel fate faced him with challenge from the very beginning. He pulled up his socks, breeches and boots almost effortlessly, but the numerous buttons of his shirt decided they would not go down without a fight. The bastards proved slippery and unyielding, and even when he eventually managed to force them into submission and into their respective holes, the earl's victory was overshadowed by their ultimate treachery – his shirt was buttoned unevenly.

"Oh, hell…" He tucked it in his breeches as best as he could, hoping no one would notice, and cast on the overcoat, with the buttons of which he chose not to bother anymore, and walked out the door leaving the bed undone.

Ciel and Will's rooms had been originally two slightly larger closets adjacent to Espiritus' apartment, but she had decided that neither of them would live below with the footman and the cook, Mr. and Mrs. Jones respectively, which was a great relief. But now Will was out of his room as well, weakly arguing with the master's minion.

"But Es, why do we have to feed all those crows in the first place?" Will complained. "They eat a lot and shit a ton, not to mention that they just sit around, doing nothing!"

"Oh for fuck's sake, Will, they're crows, what the hell would you expect them to do? Now go downstairs and get some breakfast for all of us, and see that Mrs. Jones doesn't mess up master's breakfast again."

"Um… excuse me…" Ciel cleared his throat, "What am I supposed to do?"

Es turned to face him and her eyes briefly inspected the new butler's appearance – wrongly buttoned shirt, absent bow (which Ciel had forgotten about completely) and tousled hair included, and blinked a few times, but made no remark in respect of that. "Master has decided that until it's time to make a move on the job we are intent upon, you are to act as his butler. That is," Es checked her pocket watch, "you will have to serve his breakfast shortly. He doesn't eat often, as he has no need for food – well, at least not what we consider food to be – but when he does decide to have a bite his mood improves to some extent…"

Ciel waited for Will to leave the room before he finally popped the question that had kept him up most of the night. "Why is he doing all this, Es? You had a talk with him later last night, I know you did. I'm sure he must have told you the whole story, about the contract and everything… so why doesn't he just take my soul? Isn't that what he wants?"

Es shrugged her shoulders awkwardly. "Well, I… to be honest, Ciel, I don't really understand this thing about souls and stuff, I suppose one has to be a demon to get it, but I got this much – master is pissed because he got screwed over the contract, and because someone has _tampered_ with your soul. I think it's like, you have a favorite dish like, let's say, fish and chips, but then someone drops some poorly chosen sauce over it and it becomes foul, you know?"

_Foul?… Sebastian thinks that my soul has become…foul?_

For some reason, that conclusion hurt the young earl and his face dropped visibly. "D-did the Undertaker do that?" he stuttered weakly, not that he really cared who was responsible, in fact that was far from being his current trouble. All he knew in that moment was that it hurt. He didn't know how or why, but for some reason it was simply _painful_.

"Oh, fuck the Undertaker! But why on Earth do you say it like it's a bad thing?" Es asked, quite surprised.

"How the hell is it a _good_ thing?" Ciel snapped. "My soul has been tampered with!"

"Oh, I don't know… maybe because master won't eat you anymore? Duh!" the minion replied amused.

"But he will seek revenge, won't he?" the earl pressed. "You said yourself that he is angry about it!"

"Yeah, but there's no need for you to make such a fuss about this – after all, you're only human, it's obvious that whatever happened wasn't your doing. So unless you're worried about the Undertaker or something, I suggest you drop this issue. Not to mention, we have more important problems right now"

Ciel wanted to ask something more, but then Will returned hurriedly with a meal cart that had a large, covered plateau in the middle, a smaller plate filled with some dark bread, cheese and sausages on the side, some cutlery and four mugs filled with a dark, foamy liquid. The earl noticed that the other servant's coat was splashed afresh with something nasty looking and that there was soot smeared onto his face and in his hair.

"Es…" he said between gasps, "you have to do something – Mrs. Jones is, um… out of control…"

The minion tsked with a scowl and lifted the lid of the plateau, revealing a piece of bloody, almost raw steak."It doesn't look so bad," she observed, poking it with a fork," she's done worse before, anyway… I hope master likes it…"

"_What!?_ Is that what Seb-... _master_ eats for breakfast?" Ciel asked mortified. The sight of the steak alone made his stomach cringe in horror– it looked like the kind of meal fit for a wild beast, not a… But then again, he reminded himself, Sebastian _was_ _not human_.

"A manly breakfast she calls it, Mrs. Jones," Will laughed, stuffing his mouth with sausage, "nothing like some raw wild boar steak with dark beer on the side!"

The earl reached for a piece of dark bread and some cheese, morosely noting that it was the same thing they'd had for dinner the previous evening. The damned Undertaker had been right about their cuisine, he thought eyeing the sausages – he was hungry but they looked far too repellent to dare a bite. The beer however seemed somewhat more tempting – even if it was hardly a good idea to begin one's day with such beverage rather than a cup of hot, flavored tea – so he grabbed one of the mugs and sipped determinedly.

"Fucking hell, one of these days we'll have to throw that hag out of the kitchen and actually cook something edible," Es stated, examining a piece of sausage and tossing it back on the plate disgusted.

* * *

"Alright, since you're new here and I am the one who has served master until now, I will assist you until you get used to it and learn everything. I am in charge with supervision and security after all, but if master is to have a butler, he might just as well get this kind of service, so you'll have the chance to prove yourself," the minion explained solemnly, while Ciel was pushing the meal cart down the corridor on the second floor – after the one hell of a challenge of getting everything up the damned stairs in one piece.

If he had to do this thing every single morning, he'd be done for in no time. He had never troubled himself with wondering how his butler transported his food up the stairs or other such practical matters – but hell, for him _everything_ must have been easy, while for Ciel everything was complicated and hard.

The demon's bedroom was accessible through his study, so in they went and Es knocked softly on the large doors separating the smaller room from Sebastian's bedchambers. As the minion proceeded to explain in no more than a whisper, the master had as little need for sleep as he had for food, but he would most of the time indulge in some sort of slumber, and since his hearing was so keen and his nerves so delicate, the level of noise had to be kept to a minimum in his proximity. Right as she was saying that, a noise very similar to an explosion resounded from below, most likely from the kitchens.

_Oh great!_ Ciel pondered. _At least I won't be missing Bard anytime soon…_

"Yes, come in," a voice from inside prompted them, and they walked in to discover Sebastian already up and slumped awkwardly into the only armchair in the room. And he didn't look particularly happy.

"Good morning, milord! I trust that you have… slept well?" Es greeted politely, despite the fact that quite the opposite was obvious.

"Indeed… I couldn't fathom a finer morning, being so pleasantly awoken since before the break of dawn," the demon agreed with a brief grin, observing his two servants casually. His butler noticed with relief that he was already dressed, otherwise dealing with the multitude of buttons adorning his master's garment would have been really painful, without counting the shirt he was probably wearing underneath.

"Ah yes, apologies master… it appears that the cook is having another authority crisis, but I shall see to it right away…" the minion explained with a bow. She then motioned for Ciel to wheel the cart in front of the small table near Sebastian's armchair, and the earl did so shyly, feeling a sudden and terrible discomfort under the demon's observant gaze. He gingerly placed the plateau onto the table and removed the lid with a shaky hand, clearing his throat.

"For today's breakfast we have…um… lightly grilled wild boar _au naturelle_ and _sans condiments, _served with whole bread and complemented with a mug of … uh… finely b-brewed dark beer," he stuttered a brief made up presentation (mentally slapping himself at how bad it had sounded) and then stole a glance towards his master, but the demon's face betrayed nothing.

"Excellent choice, my compliments to the chef," Sebastian said in a neutral tone, as he eventually moved towards the table and proceeded to stabbing his meat decisively with the fork.

"Milord, what of your schedule for today? What are your orders?" Es wanted to know.

"Ah yes…" the demon said, popping a piece of bloody meat in his mouth with the most delicate of gestures, "since you're both here we might just as well discuss _the job_, and what we shall do about it to bring it to fulfillment."

"Forgive me, master…"Ciel dared to ask," but what _exactly_ is the job?"

"The job is very simple – the Council has decided that Claude Faustus is to be apprehended and brought to justice for the breaking of his contract, and we shall do our best to see it done," Sebastian explained solemnly, "namely, our best or _whatever works_, that is… Now the trick is that not only is this job particularly … complicated, due to the fact that it's Claude Faustus we are talking about, but it must also be carried out most discreetly, hence our problem, really. There are two possible approaches to this. One is for us to fight him face to face – meaning to put up a gang of not only very efficient but also _nameless_ scoundrels to the purpose. This is an expensive option which might very well result in failure, if you ask me… And the second option is, of course, to find a way to stab him in the back, which is where my thoughts converge to at the moment."

"What do you have in mind, master?" Es asked. "Have you come up with any plan for us to follow?"

The demon took a sip of his beer and licked the foam off his plump upper lip with a sudden grin. "All in due time, Es… For now, we will need to obtain a little device without which we cannot hope to capture his _essence_…"

"His _essence_, milord? Do you mean, like, his soul?"

Sebastian shrugged. "The Council does not object to having him brought over in a jar, so… not to mention he would be far less troublesome to handle this way. That's why," he added pointing to a book that lay open by his side, "as I have discovered from my research, we will need a certain crescent moon shaped pendant, and guess who has such a thing? Lady Ophelia!"

"I see, master… Our job is not only dangerous, it's also undignified…" Es observed bluntly, "to think that after all the fight we put up to keep your damned suitors at bay, this is what is has come to… I must confess it is rather sad, you know?"

"Oh nonsense!" the demon replied, suddenly good-humored. "I just sent a letter to have her over for tea later today. It's a very innocent and I daresay proper invitation, and I'm sure that I can persuade her to help"

"But milord, are you sure _this_ is a good place to have a lady over for tea? We've never had a tea party before…" Es said suspicious.

"Well," Sebastian said, finally pushing his empty plate away and standing up, "that's because we've never had a _butler_ before!"

_Oh hell… this is going to be bad… _Ciel inwardly concluded. _It's going to be even worse than getting Claude Faustus! _He lowered his head, staring intently at the tips of his boots as his master drew closer and closer, until he was standing right in front of him.

"I'm going out now, but I'll be back in time for tea," the demon informed. "I don't expect anything too fancy, just tea and some desserts assortment, and also… I would like properly done buttons and a bow, if that's not too much trouble…" he added, suddenly running a finger along the front of Ciel's shirt and all the way up to his chin, forcing the boy to look his master in the eye. And what the young earl saw in his master's eyes was by no means encouraging.

* * *

"What the hell is a 'desserts assortment' anyway?" Will wondered with a scowl, rummaging through one of the messy cupboards. Warding off Mrs. Jones from the kitchen had been but half of the current challenge, because he also had to find her precious book of recipes that the hag kept hidden somewhere within her sinister realm.

"It means several types of deserts," Ciel muttered dryly, exasperated at the thought that he couldn't even make one single desert, let alone _several_… _That stupid Undertaker – a 'superb butler' he said! I'm completely done for!_

"Oh, here it is!" the curly haired young man exclaimed cheerfully, finally holding up a thick, dusty tome.

"Quickly, browse to the desserts section!"

Ciel rapidly scanned the pages in search of some recipes that sounded both fancy enough and remotely doable, at least as far as his and Will's combined expertise was concerned. Will, who was Es' favorite and in theory 'her butler', actually had enough experience with handling pots and pans so as to not blow up the kitchen or produce anything majorly disastrous.

"Alright," the earl decided at last, "For the desserts assortment we shall make raspberry_ brûlée_, _crêpes_ with vanilla cream and cinnamon apple tart._" Or die trying…_

* * *

_A while later..._

"Alright you two, that sinister old ta- I mean Lady Ophelia will be here in an hour!" Es announced, poking her head inside the kitchen, "is everything ready?" She curiously inspected the results of the boys' toil – the raspberry brûlée was more like a brown, torched mess ( the sugar on top of the raspberries and the whipped cream was in fact supposed to be slightly burned, with emphasis on 'slightly'), while the layer of apple slices on the tart had been generously thickened to conceal a serious 'malfunction' of the dough. The _crêpes _project had sadly resulted in something like a sweet, unsightly omelet, and had therefore been abandoned entirely.

"Well, at any rate it looks better than anything else previously prepared in this kitchen," she observed. "Are you alright, Ciel? You don't look too good…" Indeed, the poor boy was all disheveled and sweaty, not to mention more than half of his fingertips were burned, scratched, cut or a mixture of. And as if that wasn't enough, Ciel suddenly realised something that almost gave him an asthma attack – he'd completely forgotten to ask Will to buy any tea!

"Well shit!" the curly haired servant stated. "I haven't even dreamed of it, focused as I was on getting everything for the bloody 'desserts assortment', not to mention that everything was so bloody hard to get, all those damned ingredients! And no one drinks tea in this household so there, we don't have any tea! The only thing there's plenty of is those damned crows!"

"Will, we're not making crow tea," Espiritus said gently."We'll boil some whisky with a drop of dark beer for more color and a few apple slices for flavor and there – tea enough"

_Uh… what?_

* * *

"It's going to be a disaster!" Ciel grumbled, ransacking his small room in search of the bow he'd abandoned somewhere as he'd gotten undressed the night before. Good thing he didn't actually have a larger room in which to lose his things.

"Nonsense, it's going to be just fine," Es assured him from the other room, "There's no need to worry, master doesn't eat and that woman is so infatuated with him that she won't know what she's putting into her mouth"

_Aha! _The earl thought victorious as he eventually knelt and fished the black velvet ribbon from under his bed."So then, you were serious when you mentioned master's suitors? As in, people who actually want to marry him or something?" he asked, desperately struggling with the respective piece of accessory which continued to defy him. _Who the hell is that insane as to want Sebastian, other than that lunatic reaper?_

"Oh… hell yeah!" the minion confirmed with a snicker. "Better hurry up now, I just saw Lady Ophelia's carriage entering the clearing!"

_Oh hell! God damn it! God damn it! _Ciel briefly fixed his clothes and his hair as best as he could and darted out of the room. He raced down the stairs to the ground floor, stumbling several times and almost losing his breath in the process, only to very nearly bump head first into his master, who was already waiting for his guest in a pose of faultless courtesy.

"I hope all is prepared for our guest?" the demon asked casually.

"Ffff…fear not, master! Ev- everything is under control…" the young earl panted heavily. _Hell, nothing is under control! I am doomed…_

"It had better be," Sebastian warned softly with an ominous smile.

_**To be continued…**_


	6. His suitor, teased

**CHAPTER 6**

A/N – for those of you who were rhetorically (but otherwise justified) wondering as to why the hell is this an M-rated fic, here's some good news – it's getting there… do not despair yet :))

* * *

Will, whose curls had been brushed into submission for once, hurried to open the front door largely, after which he promptly darted out to help the guest step out of her carriage. Lady Ophelia – a blonde middle aged woman heavily plastered in garish make-up and clad in a flowery dress with quite the deep cleavage - walked briskly up the stairs and through the open door, nearly knocking Will out of her way in eagerness, and advanced towards Sebastian with a lace gloved hand graciously outstretched in greeting. The demon took it in his and bowed courteously to bring it to his lips, but the impatient lady used the opportunity to pull him abruptly forward and placed a (bit of a forceful) kiss on each of his cheeks.

"Oh Sebastian, it's such a pleasure!" she squealed like a young girl. "I must confess that your sudden invitation took me by surprise, but I still managed to make myself beautiful for you!"

"My dear Lady Ophelia, the pleasure is all mine…" the demon replied with a charming smile, gallantly taking her arm and leading her towards the large living room on the ground floor, while she continued to rant about God knows what in the same high pitched voice.

Ciel remained behind in the hallway, motionless and dumbstruck, choking in the heavy trail of perfume the guest had left behind. Compared to this woman, Grell Sutcliffe was the epitome of charm, beauty and good taste, he couldn't help pondering, utterly disgusted and at a loss as to what to do next. Es, who had been standing aside and eyeing the lady with a gloomy scowl the whole time, walked up and patted him gently on the shoulder.

"Okay, count to five, take a deep breath and then go serve them some tea and desserts," she instructed. "And don't forget to smile!"

The petite butler wheeled the serving cart previously prepared into the large living room which had been aired and dusted especially for the occasion, and where Will had brought fresh candles, and drew closer to the pair. The earl noticed that his master had cautiously seated himself on the opposite side of the tea table from Lady Ophelia, as far away as possible from her grasp – which wasn't actually very far since she'd reached across the polished surface and affectionately taken hold of his hand.

Ciel ignored the demon's obvious discomfort, which he found rather amusing, and cleared his throat softly before presenting the serving. "For today's tea we have raspberry _brûlée_ and cinnamon apple tart, complemented with a blend of apple infused Earl Grey." He gulped when the lady's eyes suddenly focused upon him intently, and wondered if he'd said something wrong or had otherwise made a goof.

"I'd like some cinnamon apple tart to begin with, and some tea," Lady Ophelia replied softly, her gaze never leaving his petite form, which if anything made him even more uncomfortable.

The boy took a few shy steps forward under his master's scrutinizing glance, while Sebastian inspected the food and tea with somewhat of a suspicious air, and placed a small china plate with a slice of freshly cut tart (with which occasion he made the disturbing discovery that the dough wasn't _fully_ baked…) in front of her, and a dainty cup for her tea. The young earl then carefully grabbed the kettle with a firm grip and leaned closer to pour from it, just as the lady curiously leaned forward in turn, the tip of her sharp nose briefly brushing his ear. A sudden wave of nervousness washed over Ciel as her face was so close to his own, her sickening sweet perfume almost unbearable. And so the tea he was currently pouring flowed over the brim of the full cup and made its way into her lap.

"Ah!" Lady Ophelia gasped out loud feeling the hot liquid, while the young earl froze in horror, not even thinking of glancing up to face his master.

"I… I'm so sorry…please forgive me, I…" he whispered in a cracking voice, willing his dread away, after which he quickly picked up a napkin and hurriedly dabbed at her dress. He only realized he'd just made it so much worse when his hand accidentally slipped between her thighs, eliciting another yelp. _Oh God, that was the _absolute quintessence_ of stupidity! What the hell was I thinking!? _the boy inwardly scolded himself.

"Oh my, Sebastian!" Lady Ophelia suddenly squealed in an unexpected outburst of excitement. "Your little butler is such a tease! Can I pet him?" she chirped happily. As the demon - who only blinked a few times while sporting a sort of confused scowl - said nothing, the guest pulled Ciel into her lap in one hearty motion and proceeded to pinch his cheek.

"You're so cuuute!" the lady cooed, her other arm wrapping more firmly around the earl's waist so as to prevent any potential escape attempt. "Now, serve me some tart, will you? Now, Sebastian, what were you saying earlier?"

"Oh…um…" the demon stuttered slightly, recollecting himself from his perplexity, "I was saying that, well, you know how my job never spares me of trouble… And I could use a bit of help under the current circumstances, from you dearest Ophelia," he said, reaching to pour the lady some tea himself in a new cup before further disasters would occur.

"Sebastian, you flatter me!" Lady Ophelia giggled, sipping graciously from her cup and then helping herself from the plate Ciel was awkwardly holding up for her. "The thought itself that I could be of any help to you is quite tantalizing, almost… _improperly_ so…." she teased batting her fake eyelashes.

"Indeed," the demon agreed with a light smile," and what's even more improper is that your father would never agree to it. You know how he doesn't like me at all…"

The lady downed her cup of 'tea' and boldly poured herself another, taking a large sip. "Mmmm… this tea is absolutely divine, I've never tasted anything like it," she praised, rubbing down the petite butler's arm, "As for my father, psha! He's a grumpy old man without any understanding for the simple joys of life! So… what can I help you with?"

"There is a little something I wish to borrow for a short while," Sebastian explained, "more precisely, that jewel currently adorning your lovely neck," he said pointing at the crescent moon shaped pendant with a slender finger.

"Ahhhh you…." Lady Ophelia giggled, "You want this old thing?" she asked, leading Ciel's small hand toward her cleavage and pressing it over the jewel (and her breasts). _Oh hell…oh hell!_ the young earl thought, absolutely mortified at what was happening, while Sebastian's gaze trailed from the kettle to the lady's suddenly flushed cheeks, and decided to pour a cup for himself as well. The demon took a quick sip and very discreetly facepalmed.

"By the way, what is your name?" the lady wanted to know, running her fingers through the earl's dark locks, gently tucking a strand behind his ear.

"Ciel…"

"Aww, such a beautiful name…" she marveled, "Now tell me, Ciel, should I help your master? Should I give him what he wants? Hmmm?" she cooed drunkenly, propping her chin onto the butler's shoulder and whispering into his ear.

* * *

"I can't believe I bothered to invite that horrible woman to my house, only to have her ask _my butler_ whether she should help me or not…" Sebastian stated dryly, toying with the pendant in his hand.

"Oh master, aren't you old news…" his minion mocked him openly, "but there's no point in making a fuss about it just because she didn't pull _you_ into her lap, after all you are a bit heavier than Ciel. And you ultimately did get what you wanted, didn't you?"

"You know what, "the demon said, pulling away from his desk, "I'm not going to ask who forgot to buy actual tea, just as I'm not going to ask who exactly had the idea of brewing that sinister concoction… but I'll have you know that, just before leaving, Lady Ophelia did point that my bleak, gloomy house could use a woman's hand to make it more jolly…"

"But milord," Espiritus said defensively, pressing her hands upon her chest dramatically, "you know that I am here to fulfill your every wish, so if you want pink roses everywhere, all you have to do is ask and it shall be done!"

Sebastian sighed and waved his hand in dismissal, motioning for his minion to retire, before turning to his butler. "And now, what shall I do with you, hmmm…?"

_Now I'm done for!_ Ciel thought, staring at the tips of his boots. He did not dare look his master in the eye, but the demon drew closer and tilted his chin up with two fingers, forcing his face up questioningly. "How long are you going to keep up this charade, huh, Sebastian?" the boy suddenly blurted out angrily with a hint of despair. "Why don't you just take my soul already?! Isn't that what you want?"

The demon's eyes widened for the briefest moment, before he let out a disdainful snort. "Take _your soul_?" he spat. "I don't know _what_ you are, but you're not my young master! My young master would have never behaved like this, like such a tart!"

Ciel's mouth hung open at the biting insult, indignation literally choking him. "I'm not a… _a tart_! How dare you insult me like this, you stupid demon?!" he shouted, balling his small fists." Hah! Do you think I'm afraid of you?"

Sebastian blinked a few times, but he was otherwise completely unfazed by his butler's outburst. "Oh no, by no means. For if you were afraid of me, you would not be doing that kind of mischief," he said calmly, "Indeed you are everything I had expected from one of Undertaker's minions - a foul breed of the lowest kind."

"That's not-"Ciel tried, inwardly equally horrified as he was pained by the demon's unfair assumption, but Sebastian interrupted him. "But let me tell you this, little mongrel," he said, grabbing the boy's shoulders and turning him around to face the window. "Do you see them? Take a good look…"

The earl glanced beyond the glass at the countless crows perched up in the surrounding trees, wrapped in their ominous black plumage and with bead-like eyes always on the prowl, and a cold shudder ran down his spine.

"If you cause more trouble, or dare to give me cheek again, I will feed you to my crows. Your soul may be foul, but your flesh is still young and tender, and I can assure you that they'll just love it!" the demon warned, his hands suddenly gripping the boy from behind, claw-like fingers curling and digging into his chest and lower stomach as if in an attempt to tear his body apart. And Ciel simply lost himself in that accursed touch, his mind barely registering the threat his master had uttered, all previous fear fading somewhere in the back of his mind. Sebastian had never held him so, never before had he been so brutal and dominating, so predatory, so… true to his real demonic essence. And that in itself was for some unknown reason mesmerizing beyond words…

_Be as brutal as you like_…_why did I say that then? Why am I even more so inclined to want it now? _

* * *

Ciel sat upright onto his small bet, creasing his nightshirt between sweaty hands. _What the hell!? What the hell has he done to me? And I'M NOT A TART! How dares he! _His face twisted into an even deeper frown as he pulled his bare feet up and hugged his knees tightly. _What has the Undertaker done to my soul? What could he have done, anyway? Or maybe… it wasn't my soul that he's soiled, but my body?_

The young earl couldn't help remembering the pain inflicted by the body snatcher as he'd pinned him with his wicked needles, in supposed purpose of 'improvement'… And what sort of 'improvement' was that exactly? Ciel didn't feel any better, or any different, aside from the occasional discomfort given by the accursed jewel marking his new status. The memory of the Undertaker's touch onto his bare body was still horrible enough for the boy to immediately struggle to dismiss it, but still, the body snatcher had not done anything else… the silver haired reaper had no interest in his _dead things_ other than the profit they could bring him, and that was something the earl could believe, since he only sold them to 'folks who ain't that picky'… whatever the hell that meant.

But whatever the Undertaker had actually done to him, body or soul, Ciel couldn't comprehend why his previous butler would call him that awful name. Hell, he was one to talk! Just because he had allowed himself (as if he could escape!) to be pulled into the lap of master's suitor and be petted by her? Maybe it was in the nature of demons to give everything a twisted and perverse meaning, and to blow things out of proportions, he pondered. After all, Ciel was still a child and most women liked children. They found them cute and liked to pinch their cheeks, and even tease them with silly words. So what?

And soon the boy found himself meditating on the actual substance of that absurd and insulting term that had been so harshly thrown at him. _When does someone qualify for this appellative? When they give their body out for money? When they are addicted with putrid lust? Or just… slightly willing?_ His thoughts wandered as he wracked his brain for an answer, and went back to the memory of one particular time he'd visited Lau's opium den. Despite the success they apparently enjoyed, Ciel had never been even mildly interested in Lau's girls, but… at that one time he'd found a peculiar interest in one of Lau's books while waiting for him to return, one that the Chinese had carelessly left scattered around, and which quite vividly depicted...

_No! I can't be thinking of this now, not now!_ Ciel tried to will that memory away, feeling his cheeks beginning to burn, and his stomach twist because it just made everything so much worse. He had indeed – at some point – fantasized about _it_, but… The boy dropped back onto the mattress on top of the covers, uncurling his body and letting his skin prey to the cool air of the room. He could still feel Sebastian's grip onto his chest and stomach, wicked and feral and yet incredibly… sensuous. He gently placed his small hands over the two spots, as if in attempt to preserve that touch and have it etched into his skin, as sleep eventually took over him.

* * *

_Soft lips pressed onto his ever so gently as the black feathers brushed against his cheek in a sweet caress, and a warm, all conquering tongue made its way into his passive, obedient mouth. He relished into the demon's taste as the forbidden fruit was so generously offered, albeit for the highest price one could pay in this life or the next. It was undoubted bliss, yet laced with the all too painful truth behind the lie which the dark prince had yet to voice. _

_It was pain that the boy had expected but pain would not be given to him, not yet and not the sort he'd prepared himself for… His skin was bare, completely exposed and vulnerable under those claws that grazed against it teasingly, without slashing, without carving into the flesh, much too lightly to draw out blood, but stirring his very core. And so his foul body betrayed him again, fastening his heartbeat and making him moan under his breath._

_The young earl tossed his head to the side, into the pillow – crushing unshed tears under his closed eyelids – because his master would not tear him to pieces with his claws and teeth but with his disdain and his coldness. The butterfly kisses that were ghosted down his pale throat and his slim torso were all nothing but cruel deceit, the fingertips trailing down his ribcage and thumbs rubbing teasingly onto his hipbones but skillful torture. And yet he breathed hard, sinfully aroused, swollen lips parted in a helpless, pleading sigh for more of that accursed touch which made his body feel worshipped when in truth it was being utterly defiled. _

_His mouth opened widely to let out a deep breath instead of a loud scream when sharp, needle-like canines eventually sunk into the skin of his throat, releasing the crimson life essence flavored with that of his very soul, and tears spilled freely onto pink dusted cheeks. Yet his body gladly opened and welcomed the rough, brutal heat of his demonic master, even as it ripped him in two with forceful, violent thrusts and the pain became unbearable. _

_His small body was abruptly pulled up and claws sliced into the flesh of his back, claiming him as prey, as the creature fed mercilessly onto everything he had to offer, consuming him whole, and Ciel felt both hell and rapture as he was so held captive and gradually torn to shreds. And right then and there, at the peak of his agony, he knew – that it was love, and it had been all along. _

* * *

Brief A/N – Oh fuck, such a cheesy ending, and just when it was getting interesting… *facepalms* :))) And yes… _that_ was Sebastian's true form, the one nobody's ever seen… For a good reason probably ;)

_**To be continued…**_


	7. His butler, skillful

**CHAPTER 7**

Ciel wiped his tearstained cheeks for the umpteenth time – actually he was quite sure he'd scrubbed his skin raw – with the sleeve of his poorly buttoned shirt, yet the throbbing pain would not leave him and large teardrops continued to roll down his pale face. It had burrowed into his small chest, like an accursed claw gripping his heart, poisoning every breath he took. It was so bad that the young earl didn't even bother to conceal his discomfort.

"Now what?"

The petite butler could not say out loud 'now what', because in truth it was so ridiculous and just plain stupid that he wouldn't have dared spit it out even had he been all alone in the room. And he was sure that Sebastian's other servants would have found it either quite perplexing, or it would have amused them to no end, much to his humiliation. But Will was glancing down at him questioningly, even with a shadow of concern, and so he knew he had no choice but to offer a reason for his current predicament.

"Master got really angry with me yesterday…" he sobbed, sniffing loudly, "And he said he would feed me to his crows…"

"Hah! Did you hear that, Es? So that's why he keeps those shitty crows after all!" Will laughed, reaching out to ruffle Ciel's hair soothingly.

The minion sighed. "Poor master, he's really deluding himself that his crows would actually make the effort to rip flesh from bone when they are fed sweet corn every day. That's sad, really," she observed amused. "But if it makes him feel better…"

"Whatever, I guess… so does he want any breakfast?" the curly servant wanted to know.

"No, he's gone out early today," Es said."But we won't dwell on that, we've got work to do – the job begins today"

Will scratched his head. "You mean us going after that Faustus fellow, eh?"

"Master has a very complicated and 'subtle' plan for it that I don't quite understand," the minion explained, sipping on her dark beer. "But we'll just take it step by step and bottom line is that tonight we're going to a party!"

"We… you mean all three of us? Or is master coming too?" Ciel asked, his interest suddenly picked by the news. Was he really going to see more of Underworld beyond the demon's gloomy castle? Not that he expected the rest of Underworld to be any better, but he was still curious.

"But we've got nothing fancy to wear!" Will exclaimed with dismay.

Espiritus rolled her eyes. "Of course master won't be there, he hasn't the slightest intention of helping us – the only moment when you can be sure that master is right beside you, or right behind you, is when you speak ill of him. And we'll get us fancy clothes, don't fret… we'll go out into town and shop at Mrs. Clapper's!" she stated with a wide grin.

Her butler's eyes went wide with wonder. "At Mrs. Clapper's? Does that mean… could it really be that master's left you money for it?"

"He's left shit! You see," the minion explained, digging into her wardrobe and pulling out an old travel cloak which she assessed rather displeased, "master doesn't really understand that - unlike him – we cannot make things appear out of the blue, and generally 'make a whip out of shit' like he does. So of course he's left us no money, no clothes, no shit. But we're going to get us some money regardless…"

* * *

Ciel quickly forgot about the pain that strange dream had caused him as soon as it dawned on him that a much bigger problem was now looming. _Claude Faustus, the demon butler of the Trancy household? Oh hell! And apparently… Sebastian has bought me not because he needed a butler but _especially_ for this job…What the hell is he thinking!? Me and these two, capture Faustus? But how could we, he's a demon! And also… what was that he said about the contract…?_

"Tell that old fart to take out the carriage before I get really angry and something bad will happen to him!" Es told Will, who had failed to persuade Mr. Jones, since the damned hunchback had a habit of 'never going down without a fight'. And that applied to each and every small thing his job as the Black Crow's household footman required of him.

"Es, I was wondering," the young earl asked, a bit unsure of how to phrase what he wanted to know, "what did master mean about bringing Claude Faustus to justice for breaking the contract? And the… Council? How exactly does all that work?"

"The Council is the authority of the Underworld. Among its numerous duties – which I'm not really aware of – the Council regulates and supervises all contracts formed between demons and mortals. The breach of such a contract constitutes an offence as per the Council's laws and is punishable. Faustus had a recent contract with someone named Alois Trancy, but he breached the contract by killing his contractor before the fulfillment of his obligations. And now the Council wants him"

"What?" Ciel blinked, quite confused. "No, that's a mistake! See, I knew Trancy, he was my arch enemy and he died because… well… actually because I fought him and stabbed him. Um… he didn't die right away, but I'm sure he must have died because of that wound I dealt him, it was quite serious!" _Or maybe I shouldn't have said that? I probably just made a horrible impression to her…_ he wondered, a bit too late.

But if the minion was impressed one way or the other, she did not show it. "Well, as much as I hate to steal your glory, the Council says that Alois Trancy died at the hands of his demon contractor, and they must know better… otherwise they wouldn't be out to get him," she said neutrally. "Anyway, the Black Crow household serves the Council, so this is our job, might just as well get to it and-"

"You getting into the bloody carriage or what? I don't have all day!" Mr. Jones sullenly interrupted, perched up onto the front seat with a whip in hand. The young earl stared at the old carriage presented before them – it was old and unkempt, the black paint dried and badly chipped, making the coat of arms which had once adorned the doors almost undistinguishable.

"Um… what's this?" he asked, pointing at the fading golden lion holding something like a shield between its mighty claws."I thought our coat of arms should be… a crow maybe?" the boy assumed.

"Pffttt… we don't have a coat of arms," the minion replied, pushing him inside. "I don't know what the hell that was, the carriage is stolen," she added serenely, as if it were the most common thing in the whole world.

"Eh? D-does master know about… about this?" Ciel stammered, utterly mortified at the idea. Just _what the hell_ was going on in Sebastian's household?

"Ciel, our master is a demon," Will intervened, "he doesn't bother much with ethics and stuff. In fact he doesn't bother much with anything that he doesn't personally need, so we just had to make do. The two horses are ours though…"

"What about my clothes? Are these stolen too?" the boy asked morosely, pointing down at his body.

"Huh…" Will scratched his head, assessing them thoughtfully. "Sorry mate, don't remember, it could be I guess… fine stuff like that don't come cheap. Don't have to feel bad though, it's not any of our fault – the bloody Council is to blame for everything, some tight fisted bastards they are! They sit like fucking leprechauns onto pots of gold, but they pay master very little for his job, so he pays us shit in turn. Makes sense that we should manage a bit on the side…"

Ciel curled up in one corner onto the hard, cushionless seat, and wrapped the old, ancient looking travel cloak around his body tighter, pulling the dark hood all the way down to his mouth. He didn't want to see or hear anything more, and he clearly did not want to think about how they were going to get fancy clothes for the party. The earl chose to ignore the other two servants' conversation for the rest of the way into town, terribly disgusted by their dishonest ways.

He wasn't awfully surprised though, Sebastian – _the demon_ Sebastian - was clearly unconcerned with 'ethical issues' and it only made sense for his servants to be a bunch of shameless scoundrels. Will looked like a fine fellow, a tad clumsy yet kind hearted, and Es could have passed for a pleasant young lady, but their appearance was clearly deceiving. As for Mr. and Mrs. Jones, they clearly belonged into some sinister fairytale with evil witches and wicked wizards, they were so horrible that they even seemed unreal. And the traits of the servants spoke tons about the traits of their master, he pondered.

Now, Ciel had always known that his butler was a demon, and that much had always been quite obvious, at least to him. But while it had been obvious through all the great things that his skillful butler could accomplish, it had not been obvious in any bad way. Sebastian had even asked his young master to refrain from beholding his true form, which he had himself described as 'disgusting' and 'unsightly'. And all that had reduced Sebastian's demonic nature to a rather abstract notion in the boy's mind. He had _known_ that his butler was a demon who would eventually devour his soul, but just knowing was quite different from actually _seeing_. While Sebastian still chose to spare his servants from the sight of his true form, that was quite little solace, seeing how he didn't spare them of anything else – including doing his dirty work. Hell, they probably deserved it, but the more unsettling thought that suddenly came to Ciel's mind was that maybe – _just maybe_ – he deserved it too…

* * *

"Here it is, 'The Mad Hound'! That would be the owner, eh?" Mr. Jones announced, as the carriage eventually stopped. "Can I get a pint or two? Haven't in a while you know, my throat's all dry and that damned hag watches me like the vulture she is!" he asked hopefully.

"Alright, but hurry up old man, because it might get ugly later on," Es said, and the earl finally pulled his hood back to see where they were.

The carriage had stopped on the side of a muddy, grim looking back street – or at least that's how it looked like – in front of a filthy looking tavern. A pompous and ornate iron plate which had become indecipherable with rust hung above the entrance, lightly swinging in the harsh wind. Mr. Jones jumped down with surprising agility for one as crippled as he, and darted inside eagerly, slamming the cracked door in his wake, while Es dug under her seat and pulled out a long wooden box, containing several metal rods of various lengths and girths.

"W-what are these?" the young earl asked, a cold shiver making its way down his spine at the sight. He suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

"See, those 'fine gentlemen' in there wanted to gamble with me and Will a while ago, because they thought they could fuck with us, but they lost royally and have yet to pay what they owe. So this is collection day," the minion stated. "And _these_ are just in case we encounter any… difficulties"

"_WHAT?_ But-… You can't just go in that tavern and start a fight!" Ciel protested. "What about master? Wouldn't that… destroy our household's reputation or something?!"

The minion laughed. "If anything, it will consolidate it! Folks only learn the hard way around here, and they've got to learn that they can't mess with us, or they'll keep trying to trample over us again and again. Come now, you two, we're wasting time!"

The air inside the tavern was foul with the stench of stale beer, pipe smoke and something that could hardly qualify as food, but the place was quite full. The three servants made their way through the multitude of customers squeezed together on wooden benches around the cramped, stained tables, and reached the large counter in the back. A group of five men stood a bit on the side, enjoying their drinks, and Ciel recognized one of them to be none other than Mr. Krech, the oaf who had failed to pay the Undertaker for the coffin.

"There they'd be, those bastards…" Will whispered, and Es motioned to Mr. Jones to take his two pints of beer outside, for safety. The maneuver did not go unnoticed by the dubious group, who had been watching them ever since they'd set foot inside. _Oh hell! Just when I thought I couldn't possibly get any lower… _the earl thought, averting his gaze away from them and hoping he'd not be counted together with the other two servants.

"What do you know, I didn't think I'd see you fine lot around here anytime soon," one of the oaf's companions pointed good-humored and the others burst into laughter as well.

"Your eyes are not deceiving you, good sir," Espiritus replied graciously, "so pay us what you must and we'll be on our way, quietly and without a fuss. Don't pay us and there will be trouble…"

"Trouble, eh, little lady?" Mr. Krech intervened. "What are you going to do, smack us with your embroidery kit?" he laughed, and this time a roar of laughter filled the room.

"Do you want a piece of me, you bloody bastard?" Will shouted, letting one of the metal rods slip off of his sleeve and into his ready hand. "Because you will get it right away, I've been waiting for this!"

The man laughed again, shaking his head and sliding the long cloak off his broad shoulders. "You've got some nerve there, lad, but no. I'd have a piece of _him_ though, y'all know how they say that the body snatchers' dead things can't be fought by no mortal and shit! Well that's bullshit, and I'll prove it to you! What do you say?"

Ciel did not understand right away why everyone had suddenly fallen silent and why they were all staring at him of all people, until the truth eventually hit him. Hard. _OH HELL!_ I am_ the body snatcher's dead thing… oh no! Now I'm done for!_

"I say you're some cowardly shit who would rather fight a dead little boy than handle a real man, but have it your way, sir, "Espiritus shrugged. "Don't complain if he breaks all your bones though…" she added with a malicious smirk.

"There you go, mate, the distinguished Mr. Krech here is looking for it," Will said, shoving the rod into the earl's cold and sweaty hand. "Indulge him!"

"No… no, I…" Ciel shook his head weakly, mortified. "I- I can't… fight…" he whispered, almost inaudibly, glancing up pleadingly at the minion who had perched herself up the counter to get a better view of the action, but in reply she only pointed to the skull shaped earring bud in his ear and grinned again.

'_Well, milord, I'm afraid that your little body may be cute and dainty and all, but it __is__ quite useless. Therefore to prepare you for the purpose I have to make some improvements…' _the earl remembered, but he seriously doubted the effectiveness of the shinigami's work, seeing how it had caused more bad than good until then. He swallowed hard, assessing Mr. Krech's stout frame, and took a deep breath. _He's going to kill me…_

"Come on then! Come on an' get it, ye dead thing!" the oaf spat, readying his bare fists.

_Distract him._ The boy tore the old cloak off his shoulders and threw it in the beast's face, momentarily blinding him. _Now swing! _The metal rod was weighted for a brief second in the small hand before Ciel leaped forward and hit the man over the head with all his strength. Mr. Krech stumbled a bit, but his large arm moved swiftly to clear his view and his fist collided with the boy's face, sending him tumbling backwards onto the floor.

"What you've got, bitch? What you've got? Bring it on!" the man shouted, covering the spectators' frantic exclamations, while Ciel examined his now blood coated fingers in somewhat of a fascination. His nose was clearly broken but well… it wasn't that bad. It didn't hurt all that much either… He stood up abruptly, retrieving his weapon, and walked towards his opponent determinedly. Mr. Krech swung again, hoping for another easy hit, but the earl dodged it quickly, helped by his smaller frame, and delivered a heavy blow to the side of his knee. The ruffian let out a scream as his leg gave out, his weight being forced down onto his other knee. That's when Ciel hit him again over the head as hard as he could, before dropping the rod and head-butting him square in the face, in a sudden surge of violence.

Mr. Krech dropped face down on the floor like a big sack of potatoes, and his petite opponent was preparing to slam his boot into his skull in earnest, when Espiritus stopped him. "Ciel! I think you've got him, love…" she said softly, and everyone except the debtors' group laughed again, and despite the sheer horror of what he'd just been through, a sly smile crept onto the young earl's face.

Wiping off his bloody nose again, the boy had a sudden idea of how to get the accursed Undertaker as well into some much deserved trouble. He stooped and forcefully grabbed a fistful of the man's hair, yanking his face upwards. "Oh and Mr. Krech, Undertaker says – next time make sure to pay what you owe him too, or else there'll be more of _that_ coming your way…" he drawled into his ear, before letting his head drop back onto the hard floor.

* * *

"That went rather smoothly, I expected it to get much worse. Honestly I didn't think that shit Krech was the best they'd have. Now we can get ourselves some fancy clothes for the party!" Will pointed, genuinely excited. "Did you know that Mrs. Clapper…"

Ciel tuned out the rest of Will's ranting and dropped back onto the backrest of his seat, holding his face upwards and pressing it with a handkerchief, because his nose had started to bleed again. How bothersome! He felt tired and slightly dizzy, but also prey to some peculiar excitement – after all, he'd kicked that oaf's ass. Apparently the Undertaker wasn't that stupid and he'd indeed done some improvements… how interesting!

"I see that you've had a productive day, and it's not even noon yet…" The young earl very nearly jumped off his seat when he realised that his demonic master had popped out of nowhere right next to him.

"Oh milord, it wasn't a big deal, we have just collected some old debts," Es explained. "They were long overdue… and necessary, if I might add"

Sebastian laughed softly at the phrasing, half turning to assess the state of his petite butler. "Oh, you 'collected' alright…" he observed as he took the dirty handkerchief from Ciel's hand and replaced it with a clean one, which he pulled out of his pocket. The boy felt his face slowly but steadily heating up as accidentally on purpose his master's thigh was pressed against his and he relished in the warmth radiating from the demon's hand, currently pressing onto his nose with the piece of cloth. Yet those marvelous fingers never touched him.

"So how much did you make then?" the demon wanted to know, much to the obvious displeasure of his other two servants.

"Two hundred…"

Sebastian sighed, continuing to dab at Ciel's face ever so gently, and he shook his head. "Well, you know I don't approve these things… I might have to-"

"Three hundred." his minion admitted with a scowl, and the master smiled. "That's one hundred and fifty for you and all shall be forgiven…"

"As for you, little mongrel," Sebastian said, turning his attention to his former contractor, "it appears thus that you are not without _some_ skills… I have to say that I'm quite surprised…" He drew even closer to the boy, and Ciel began experiencing an uncomfortable and unfamiliar tightness in his lower regions, all the more since the demon's nostrils suddenly flared as he inhaled the scent of blood and a look of utter confusion passed on his features for the briefest moment. "But alas, you _are_ a tart…" he then said with a smirk, and the next second he had vanished into thin air.

"AHHHH he said that again!" Ciel shouted out loud, tears already stinging his eyes from the cruel insult, and couldn't refrain from slamming his fist into the seat where his master had sat just before. "He called me a tart! What the hell?!"

"The fuck with what he said, he took half of our loot…" Will pointed morosely.

_**To be continued…**_


	8. His servants, performing

**CHAPTER 8**

The young earl had a bad feeling about the whole party thing. As curious as he may have been about seeing more of Underworld, the news that said party was going to be hosted by Lady Ophelia's father – and that she would be attending as well – had him cringe in horror. He'd also learned that his master would be there as well, in a discrete form – whatever the hell that meant – probably to prevent any disasters from occurring at the hands of his servants - but that was in no way reassuring. Hell, having to face some unknown and probably weird crowd in the costume he was currently wearing and under Sebastian's critical gaze was stressful to say the least.

"Damn this stupid costume!" Ciel muttered to himself angrily as he walked towards his master's bedroom for the mission preparations. The long skirts of the starry blue robe kept trapping his feet and the earl stumbled several times, making a mental note that he really should enrich his swearing vocabulary if he wanted to properly let out his accumulating frustrations. _Honestly, can this get any more ridiculous?_ Little did he know that it was only the beginning.

Sebastian sat slumped casually into his favorite armchair, sipping from a pint of dark beer with an amused expression. By his side, Will was sporting a sort of sophisticated outfit – half leather and half armor – another peculiar costume but at least it wasn't as stupid as Ciel's. His dark curls had been once more combed into submission and he looked rather handsome, an irritating fact that only made the earl's scowl deepen as he observed the scene.

"Master, with all due respect I think this is a stupid idea," he heard Es' voice resounding from behind the large dressing screen. "In the light of the information you have shared with me, this is not going to work at all!"

"Well, I suppose it greatly depends on what you mean by 'working'…" the demon replied calmly, with a casual raise of eyebrows, when the screen was eventually pushed aside by a nervous hand and _Alois Trancy_ walked to the middle of the room with a sullen expression. The goblin mask Ciel was currently holding slipped from his hand as he silently mouthed a shocked 'what the hell?'.

"I mean that Faustus _killed_ Alois Trancy, hence our useless and embarrassing toil to capture him, milord," the blonde reminded Sebastian in the minion's voice, "so why the hell would he be interested in this?" she asked, pointing down at the transformed body, clad in a simple white shirt under an impossibly tight black leather corset, a pair of black shorts, matching high stockings and knee high boots. "Not to mention, he will know that _I'm not_ him."

"Exactly!" the demon pointed. "And that will intrigue him greatly! Why would someone down here in Underworld look exactly like his former charge? I for one would surely be intrigued, and I would set out to discover more!"

_Oh, would you now…_ his butler pondered dryly at what seemed to him as a blatant lie, as Sebastian was barely giving him any attention, aside from the occasional malicious remarks that offended him so.

"That being said, our embarrassing and – if I may say so - quite undignified toil will not be in vain," his master declared, "and at least _you_ won't be forced to keep company to that horrid woman who is constantly thinking of ways to get into my pants and her abominable father who is constantly looking for reasons not to pay me for my job. Now we must get to work, you have less than two hours to learn your roles!"

* * *

"You okay, mate? I daresay you look a bit overwhelmed," Will said as the three servants of the Black Crow made their way through the already impressive crowd of guests pouring into Lord Grimme's huge mansion. "Here, you should try these olives! They're excellent!" he added, presenting the young earl with some of the treats he'd skillfully snatched from a careless servant's tray.

Ciel, being rather hungry and not having had anything tasty to eat in quite a while, grabbed several of the dark, plump fruits offered and popped them all in at the same time. "I do feel kind of weird in this goblin… magus… or whatever-this-is costume and I've never acted in a theater play before…" he admitted with his mouth full. "And I've never seen any _shape-shifters_ before," the earl stated, reaching out and pawing a short, blonde strand of Es' hair. "Is this really… genuinely yours?"

"Yeah well, I don't feel like turning into a _man_ often," she grumbled in reply. "Put on your masks, boys, and remember – the only good thing about this is that at least no one knows who we really are… otherwise it would be really painful"

They eventually made it to a small room which connected a hallway for servants to the large ballroom, on the side of which a sort of improvised stage had been set up. It imitated a flowery garden filled with black and blue roses and deep purple irises, surrounding the fake walls of a castle in the background. Ciel inspected it with a scowl from behind the thick curtain hiding them from view, as the guests were gathering into the ballroom and gradually finding comfortable seats around. Es and Will had already shed their travel cloaks and were making last minute retouches to their appearance in the large mirror which had been brought for their use, but the earl had no desire of further inspecting himself. He knew beyond any doubt he looked horrible.

"I think this is going to be the stupidest play ever!" the boy snorted_. I bet it's going to be the kind of syrupy bullshit that only Elizabeth could probably enjoy_… he though disdainfully. The sudden thought of his ex fiancée brought about a pang of guilt, but Ciel dismissed it rapidly. He didn't know much about the action, but at least his role was simple and short. However, it was enough to make him nervous, although the young earl knew that he'd sort of talked himself into thinking he was nervous about the performance and not about… their _objective_. He hadn't been afraid of the spider demon before but well, _before_ Sebastian had been by his side, ever watchful, ever protective. But now…

"How do we even know that Faustus will be here tonight? I mean, why would he show up in public if the Council is looking for him?" he asked shuffling his feet uncomfortable and wiping his sweaty palms off the cheap sparkly fabric of his costume.

"He _doesn't_ know, and that's why everything must be carried out with such discretion…" Es pointed. "And he can't as much as get suspicious, or it will all go down the drain in the blink of an eye!"

The petite butler huffed and stomped his foot under the robes, suddenly impatient. "But what is the damned plan anyway? What the hell are we supposed to do?"

"Master didn't say… he's helpful like that, like a boil in the butt," Will stated, laughing rather awkwardly. "Fucking hell, I'm quite nervous about this… Why can't we just go beat someone up instead? It would be so much easier…"

"Who is helpful like a boil in the butt?" Sebastian asked innocently, suddenly poking his head in from behind the curtain. "Is everything ready? We are about to start!" he proceeded to say as his servants averted their gazes and his previous question remained unanswered.

_Stupid demon, he's probably enjoying this immensely…_ Ciel grumbled inwardly, assessing his master's somewhat smug expression. Sebastian, who had in mysterious ways managed to sneak in unnoticed by his fervent suitor, hastily opened a bundle he'd brought and pulled out a bright purple cloak and a fancy matching mask to cover the upper part of his face. He hurriedly put them on and examined his own reflection thoughtfully.

"Well? How do I look?" the demon wanted to know.

"You look… interesting, master," Will offered shyly, hoping to get back into his master's graces, if such a thing was actually possible.

"Oh milord, I think you've never looked…" Es said, bringing her hands to her chest adoringly. "…so ridiculous" she added, and Ciel hid a satisfied snicker under his palm. His master totally had it coming.

"Heh, true…" Sebastian agreed, "But at least I'm not gender bent, nor do I wear slutty shorts," he laughed, sincerely amused. "By the way, let me know if you make any more money dressed up like that!"

* * *

The young earl drew a deep breath, willing away his nervousness, as Lord Grimme was delivering his birthday speech in front of his numerous and excited guests, while his daughter clung to his arm like an ugly rag doll, with a stupid smile. He didn't have any lines he could have possibly messed up – none of them had, as the play was some sort of pantomime – but still, he could stumble and fall on his face for example. The reason why Ciel had always been a wallflower at social gatherings was because he really disliked being the centre of attention, and now everyone was going to be staring at him, however briefly. _Hell…_

The lord's torturously boring speech eventually came to an end, and Lady Ophelia announced the big surprise of the evening to the impatient and rather loud guests.

"Dear all!" she exclaimed excitedly, "Tonight, for my beloved father's birthday party, I've brought a troop of actors to entertain us with a new play!" She added some more frivolous nonsense to the presentation, along the lines of 'the author being a very dear friend of hers', but Ciel tuned it out, rolling his eyes. He scanned the crowd eagerly from behind the curtain, in search of Faustus's tall frame. Indeed, his master had been right – the former Trancy butler was there, in a shadowed corner, engulfed in conversation with some unknown young woman, and he wasn't paying any attention to the eager host. His glasses were gone, and the butler outfit had been replaced by a very elegant, dark green velvet coat.

Soon, the lights in the large ballroom were dimmed at a snap of Sebastian's skillful fingers, and instead several floating lights illuminated his slender, draped frame from above.

"Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…" the demon began mysteriously, "in a mighty stone castle, there lived a young prince…"

At a small wave of his hand the lights floated above the stage, accompanied by a low and exotic music, and revealing Alois Trancy's delicate frame. The blonde sat there in the middle of the richly decorated garden bearing a crestfallen expression, completely ignoring the awed glances and occasional appreciative gasps of the audience. The prince's face was the epitome of sadness, as his fingers absentmindedly brushed against a dying flower, which had withered away before anyone could properly enjoy its beauty, its fragile existence utterly wasted.

"But the fair prince was sad because his heart was empty, loveless. For in his mighty castle and his beautiful garden he was all alone, cursed by a cruel fate, and so he suffered in silence and his heart bled…"

"Hey mate, don't fall asleep, here comes your cue!" Will gently nudged Ciel, who was listening to Sebastian's soft and yet alluring words which pleasantly mingled with the music completely absorbed, with half lidded eyes.

"All this time, unknown to our young price," his master went on, "an evil goblin was lurking around his home…"

_Stop it! Stop it!_ Ciel scolded himself inwardly, _Get a grip on yourself damn it, you can't let this stupid demon hold such power over you! _But even as he was thinking those words, the boy knew he was deluding himself. He straightened his goblin mask and the pointed hat, and gripped the small basket filled with glitter firmly, breathing deeply as he walked past the curtain and onto the stage.

"… the goblin was jealous of the prince's youth and beauty, and secretly thought of ways in which to bring doom upon the fair boy. And so, one day, the evil creature beheld the sadness burdening the prince's heart, and had a wicked idea…"

The goblin butler trotted determinedly to where 'Alois' sat down, staring at the small hands folded in his lap, and grabbed a handful of glitter from his basket, casting it over him with one dramatic gesture. The blonde went suddenly limp and collapsed under the golden shower, remaining motionless on the ground, as the villain rubbed his hands in excitement.

"He cursed the prince with the gift of a love so damned, as the world had never seen and had never been plagued by ever before…" Sebastian explained from the shadows, while Ciel could finally retire backstage. The boy let out a relieved huff, tossing aside the glitter basket, the stupid mask and the pointed hat.

"I still think we should have just kicked that fellow's ass…" Will muttered as he put on his own mask – a fine piece of black silk hiding the upper part of his face, and checked the buckle of his sword belt once more.

His appearance on stage was met with even more excitement, and the music grew a tad louder as the handsome 'knight' kneeled and stooped over the fallen form. His outspread palm hovered briefly over the prince's chest, making the small body rise up, following the movement of his hand. Pale blue eyes opened to gaze upon the unexpected guest in wonder, and for a few moments the two simply drank each other just with their eyes, before 'Alois'' hand rose shyly to mime a caress the stranger's cheek. The knight then cradled the petite blonde into his arms, while brushing their noses against each other and bringing their mouths together in what seemed to be a passionate kiss.

Ciel blushed dark cherry as the olive skinned young man pretended to gently but firmly stroke down his lover's leg, long fingers ghosting over the smooth skin, before hooking it over his slender hip. Needing to focus his attention elsewhere before he would be again tormented with very 'funny' thoughts involving a certain red-eyed brunette and experience the sort of peculiar discomfort he'd been faced with a few times before, his eyes wandered once more into the crowd, and to Faustus' corner.

But the demon was no longer where the young earl had seen him the first time – like a sly feline he had crept ever closer to the stage, his unsuspecting female companion still clinging to his arm. His golden eyes were trained on the actors – on one of them in particular, Ciel guessed – with an unreadable expression. The lady at his side giggled lowly and all red in the face as the soft moans of the performing pair could be heard, mingled with the enticing sound of drums, yet Claude Faustus' features remained immobile, as if carved in marble. _Hell, I bet he isn't half as dangerous as he is frustrating…and he _is_ pretty dangerous. He'll probably kill us just with that boring stare… _the Black Crow butler pondered - Ciel didn't like people he couldn't read. Okay, neither Faustus nor Sebastian were technically 'people' but still, his master did display his emotions, however discreetly, or at least _some_ emotion.

On stage, things took a dramatic turn as the fickle 'knight' Will, bored and sated with pleasure, eventually grew tired of his lover and decided to abandon him. The blonde threw himself at his feet, pretending to hug the young man's knees in a silent plea, as tears spilled freely down his cheeks. His lover tried to shove him away most brutally, still the boy refused to let go. But then Will drew his sword and the blade shone wickedly in the dimming lights, before it swiftly cut across the prince's pale throat, red, warm blood gushing out of the wound.

A lady from the audience let out a horrified scream and proceeded to pass out, while a loud gasp escaped the earl himself. It had all been a game between the two, never once touching each other for real, aside from this one cruel, yet very palpable moment. It had all been a terrible lie. The boy quickly tore his eyes from the gruesome scene he really hadn't expected, instead searching Faustus' face, as if that could bring some sort of solace. The demon's expression was still completely blank, but he seemed to have tuned out everything else but the sight which was before him. His nostrils flared slightly, and Ciel knew he'd picked up the scent of blood.

* * *

"What the hell happened? It all went dark all the sudden!" The young earl had groped his way around, desperately retreating into a corner of the dressing room as he'd heard several movements. But soon enough the light came back and he spotted Will sprawled out onto the hard floor, after he'd stumbled onto a stool.

"I don't know, do I?"the olive skinned servant groaned, rubbing his forehead. "It's all master's tricks, hell if I know what the fuck he's doing…"

"Where's Es?"

"She went to the bedroom they've given us for a bit… she was feeling sick…" Will shuffled uncomfortably, averting his gaze from the petite butler, whose suspicious frown only deepened. "You know master's made her 'drink' that boy's memories, don't you?" he said in a low voice.

Ciel blinked."What?"

"I think they're hurting her…" the older boy stated morosely, "some nasty shit happened to him, I heard. And he's dead, ain't he?"

But the young earl was no longer listening to him. He raced out into the hallway and to the servants' quarters. _How could he have gotten Alois Trancy's memories? Unless that stupid reaper helped him somehow…but why did he make Es 'drink' them? This is not good! _He barged into the rather large bedroom which had been given to the three of them and rapidly glanced around the room in search of the blonde.

"Es? Are you in here?" he called frantically.

"Mmmhhh- arghh…ah damn it! Yes, I'm back h-here-" came the familiar voice from behind the dressing screen also shielding the washing utensils, interrupted by a nasty cough.

"Is it true? About Trancy's memories?" Ciel demanded. "Master gave them to you? Have you… turned into him?" _Because that would really be the last thing I needed right now…_

"Hah, that's a good one! Of course I_ haven't turned _into him! No one can 'become' someone else, it's absurd! But yes, gah- hah… I did 'see' them…"

"But Will said that they're hurting you… why is that?" the earl pressed.

The blonde finally emerged from behind the screen with a tired air, running a small hand through her damp hair. "Faustus is hurting me… I began to get sick the moment I felt his presence. And I got even sicker because of this stupid play, because it happened very much like… well… that's how Trancy died. It's not like I care, but it just... felt very real, you know? Hell, saying 'I love you' to this fellow is one hell of a bad idea…" she concluded, shaking her head. "I think I'll need a strong drink before I throw up again…"

But Ciel was confused. "'I love you'? He… said that? Trancy said that?"

"Yes. And that's when Faustus cut his throat"

The petite butler squeezed his eyes shut, because the pain was suddenly too much, suffocating, crushing. He clutched desperately at his chest, struggling to breathe, and mentally bracing himself for probably the worst asthma crisis he'd ever had.

_**To be continued…**_


	9. His butler, boring

**CHAPTER 9**

"I-It's nothing, really…" Ciel stammered, still panting and clutching at his heaving chest. His breath was slowly returning to normal, but the haunting thoughts of Alois Trancy's love for his demonic butler and the tragic outcome of said love refused to leave him, because somewhere in the back of his mind the boy couldn't stop wondering whether his master wouldn't do the same thing if he knew his little secret. He shuddered at that thought.

"How can you say it's nothing, mate? You looked like you were going to cough yourself to death!" Will pointed.

"I'm not going to _die_, it's just asthma… and I've always had it, sort of, heh…" he mumbled absentmindedly.

"Ciel, the thing is you shouldn't be having any sort of illness… anymore, if you know what I mean," Es said gently, rubbing the boy's back. "So I take it the Undertaker must have done a poor job with you, otherwise-"

"You can forget about it, Es, he ain't giving no refunds, that bastard!" the other servant interrupted. "Tight fisted wanker, that one!"

The minion rolled her eyes. "I didn't think he did, but he'll have to fix this little problem, if he doesn't want his shit shop 'accidentally' trashed…"

"N-no, please!" the butler jumped at her words, "Please, there's no need! He'll… "he shook his head, "it was horrible enough the first time, he stung me and it hurt, it hurt so badly! Please!" he begged.

"I don't know, Ciel…" the blonde said thoughtful, "you reckon it was worse than this? Because if it was, I suppose…" she shrugged and the young earl nodded eagerly, sighing in relief.

"So what now, we've been in here for an hour already! Shouldn't we – I mean you - be out there, at the party? You know, talking to that Faustus fellow?" Will wanted to know, tapping his foot impatient.

Espiritus grimaced. "Talk about what? I don't even know him!"

"Yeah, but I thought the plan was for you to put yourself out there so that he may come and talk to you… get to know you and stuff?" the curly haired boy insisted, but the minion waved her hand dismissively.

"Look, Will, this party lasts three days and three nights, there's plenty of time. We wouldn't want to rush things in any way and arouse his suspicion or something – he'll see me again tomorrow night, we'll have another performance," she explained. "Now we'd better head down to the kitchens and grab some food while they're all busy…"

The perspective of good food delighted Ciel, especially since the crisis had left an empty feeling in his stomach, but he feared what Sebastian was going to say about them abandoning their duty. "But… what about master? Won't he be angry or something that we've disappeared like that?"

"Don't worry," the minion reassured them, "master must be occupied with entertaining his suitor, so we might just as well leave him undisturbed while he's at it…" the blonde snickered.

* * *

Clutching his light nightshirt carelessly folded into his arms, Ciel walked into the large bedroom the host had given his master a bit confused and frightened. He couldn't guess why the demon had sent for him so late at night, but he dreaded that Sebastian might have found out about the incident of his asthma crisis from earlier. He may have persuaded Es not to take him to the Undertaker for 'repairs', because some more needles stuck into him were the last thing the young earl needed, but that was unlikely with the demon, who wouldn't have missed the opportunity to make his life a hell and to rebuke the Undertaker for a shitty made job.

"Master? You needed… my assistance?" he asked rather shyly, seeing how Sebastian appeared to be getting ready for bed.

"Indeed," the demon replied, continuing to shed his clothing. "You are my butler, and as per the etiquette I can keep you here with me in case I'm in need of any urgent serving. But I really need you here to prevent the intrusion of any unwanted guests."

Ciel blinked. "Um… unwanted guests?"

"Well, yes. Let's not forget under whose roof we are currently hosted, shall we? Not to mention, I'm quite sure I've seen Grell at the party earlier…" Fortunately Sebastian finished peeling off his garments and pulled on a long nightshirt and matching nightcap of dark blue silk, before his butler would get any more uncomfortable at the sight of his naked body. "And I would really hate to wake up in the middle of the night and find him _cuddled_ next to me, or something!" he hissed. "Do you understand?"

The young earl nodded, secretly sighing in relief. _At least he didn't say anything about my asthma…whew! Although if Grell decided to show up, it might get unpleasant…or lady Ophelia… _He walked up and locked the door from the inside for good measure.

"Come now, strip and get to bed, I'm exhausted…" Sebastian muttered, slipping under the covers of the king size bed on one side, and Ciel quickly took off his own clothes, grateful that his master had already blown off the bedside candle. He rapidly pulled on his nightshirt and sat down, marveling at the softness of the mattress. It had been a while since he'd slept in such a bed. The boy had barely settled and curled between the nice smelling sheets, when a hand grabbed his shoulder and lightly rolled him face-up.

"And now, you will tell me how exactly did you manage to screw me with the contract, _young master_…" Sebastian said softly, yet nevertheless with a hint of menace as he propped himself up onto one elbow, hovering above his butler, really close.

"W-what…? I thought you said I'm not your young master…" the earl stuttered, gripped by sudden horror. _Uh-oh!_ _Not this, not this… this is really bad!_ _He's angry… he'll rip me to pieces, and not just my soul!_

"The scent of your blood leaves no room for doubt, although you have been tampered with, I am quite sure…Now answer my question!" the demon pressed, in the same tone.

Ciel took a deep breath, trying to will away his fear. Not that it was really working...

"I-I don't know what happened back there, at the ruins… it all went black and then… then I woke up at the Undertaker's, and he said I was dead…, and he showed me that the seal was gone,… and then he stuck some needles in me, everywhere, and put on this earring," the boy pointed, "… and he said he would sell me like he does all his puppets. That's all I know, I swear!" He took another breath, squeezing his eyes shut and expecting the worst - Sebastian was clearly not going to settle for this mumbled and confusing explanation, which sounded very much like a quickly made-up lie, even to his own ears.

"Are you lying to me, _Ciel_?" His master's voice was still soft, but the earl shuddered as his name came out of Sebastian's lips for the first time.

"No! I swear I've told you all I know! He wouldn't tell me anything else!" he shook his head, his breath laboured with dread. _It's pointless,_ _I am his prey, nothing but his prey…_

"So everything seems to be the Undertaker's fault then, eh?" the demon mused out loud, thoughtful. "Well, it's possible… at any rate I don't understand anything anymore," he concluded with a scowl. "But one thing is for sure – you _will_ atone for this by being my butler for a very long time. And I mean _long_. Mark my words!"

_Oh, no! Not now, please! Please, not now! This can't be happening now! _Ciel mentally begged, suddenly confronted with an entirely different problem, caused by the proximity of his master's lightly dressed body. Sebastian's strong, enticing scent filled his nostrils, making him a bit lightheaded, especially after the moments of intense fear he'd just experienced. "Yes, master…" he murmured softly.

"Good! Then it's settled…" the raven haired demon concluded grumpily, reaching over his butler's small form to blow off the candle on his side of the bed as well. And that couldn't have been more unfortunate, because the friction of his body against Ciel's already throbbing 'issue' caused the young earl to let out a loud moan and arch his back at the unexpected sensation.

Sebastian froze in mid-movement, remaining perfectly still for a few moments, before finally deciding to put out the bothersome light. "What was _that_?" he asked, rather suspicious.

"Haah! Heh, nothing milord! I-it was nothing!" the boy lied, swallowing hard and grateful for the now full darkness, because he was sure he must have been blushing like mad."It's just… you're a b-bit heavy, that's all…"

Ciel breathed in relief, because Sebastian shrugged and shifted as if to return to his place in bed, only to yelp when his master's hand suddenly grabbed his crotch under the covers. "This is _nothing_, hmmm?" the demon asked casually, and this time his butler could clearly pick up the hidden amusement in his tone. _There he goes – you're such a tart… _the earl anticipated, hiding his face in his hands for lack of better ideas.

"You know, here it is perfectly acceptable for a lord to sleep with his servants, as long as they are willing," Sebastian stated calmly, releasing the troublesome appendage," but they should bear in mind that their master will only see to his own pleasure while at it, and not theirs…"

"This is bullshit!" Ciel finally snapped, throwing a deadly glare at his master, who now sported an openly amused grin. "I am under no circumstances willing to… to…"

"You swore!" Sebastian's eyebrows shot up in feigned surprise and Ciel flinched, realising it was the first time such a foul word had gone past his lips. "My butler _does not _swear!"

He turned away and curled up into a tight ball, eyes already tearing up at the bitter insult, mixed with the memories of that particular dream, which suddenly washed over him all over again. It was so painful, and his heart ached more than his body, more than anything else. The petite butler clamped both his hands over his mouth, uselessly trying to muffle the desperate sobs shaking his small frame.

"There's no need to cry," the demon whispered somewhat soothingly, and Ciel suddenly found his back pressed flush against his master's torso, while a large warm palm rested onto his small, heaving chest," just tell me what it is you want from me, little lord… because I know you want something"

The boy sobbed again, yet allowed himself to enjoy the soft touch. "I want… I want… just…for you to hold me like this…" he confessed, pressing both his hands over his master's, "It makes me feel so safe…. protected…", Ciel added, as the demon gently nuzzled his nose into the nape of his neck.

"Oh well, you've always been dull like that, even when you were my young master…" Sebastian suddenly chuckled, much to his butler's chagrin. _What the hell was I thinking? Of course he would say something like this, stupid demon! _

But the rest of his thoughts simply melted away, when he was once more rolled onto his back and demon's thumb brushed over his lower lip, before prying his mouth open. Ciel couldn't help another moan as soft lips were pressed onto his, and his master's tongue slipped inside, exploring and dominating. He widened his jaw as much as he could to accommodate the unexpected yet wonderful intrusion, fingers clutching at the front of Sebastian's nightgown.

"How about we get rid of this…?" the demon suggested slyly, and in one motion the earl's shirt was pulled up and over his head, then tossed away and soon followed by Sebastian's own attire and the bedcovers, and Ciel relished in the feeling of the strong, bare body now on top of him, skin on skin. Chewing on his bottom lip, he turned his head to the side, exposing his throat to his master's hungry ministrations.

The demon's large hands slid down the small chest, thumbs rubbing the soft nipples teasingly as he continued to lick and suck at the boy's sensitive pulse point, then further down over his stomach, pausing briefly to rest onto his tiny hipbones. "You should know that I won't go easy on you…" Sebastian chuckled, before reaching down and spreading his thighs open, and the young earl's breath hitched when something like a wet and slippery finger prodded his entrance.

His own fingers dug helplessly into the sheets as he patiently endured the peculiar intrusion. Ciel knew beforehand, almost instinctively that there would be pain involved in letting himself be possessed like this by the demon he so accursedly loved, pain of the soul and pain of the body, so much that he couldn't tell which was worse, but when it eventually came it wasn't half as bad as he'd expected. It was bad enough though, that hot rod of flesh claiming his insides with a forceful, ripping motion, and the boy stuffed his clenched fist into his mouth to prevent a scream, squeezing his eyes shut, and tears began sliding down his face.

The demon growled, hooking Ciel's leg over his hip as he worked towards his own pleasure, the shift of angle causing a certain spot inside the earl's body to be hit, over and over again, turning the boy beneath him – who suddenly found himself overwhelmed by a most confusing mixture of burning pain and mind blowing pleasure – into a panting, shuddering mess. Ciel could no longer muffle his moans when a firm hand reached down between their sweat covered bodies, gripping his neglected member and starting to pump it in rhythm with his thrusting.

"Aaaaaahhhnghhhhh….ahhh… S-Sebastian…!" the petite butler cried as his first orgasm hit him violently, and he bit his lower lip until it bled in a failed attempt to stay quiet.

The young earl stayed like this for a while then, his body still trembling lightly in the afterglow of his peak, as he caressed the silky raven strands of the demon now resting on top of him with his eyes closed. His small hands began exploring shyly, yet curiously the strong neck, the broad shoulders, and further down the finely sculpted biceps and back, with muscles so firm under the unexpectedly soft skin. _Why does he have to be so damned charming? Why can't he hold me like this all the time? It's so unfair…so unfair… _His fingers reached up to brush against Sebastian's lips, before Ciel carefully replaced them with his own, placing small pecks onto the plump flesh. The demon's tongue darted out to lick the droplets of blood off the boy's badly bitten lip in turn, and soon their mouths molded into a full, passionate kiss.

Ciel's arms went around his master's neck, pulling him close as Sebastian shifted to get on top of him once more. "I thought you just wanted me to hold you in my arms like that, my little lord, in that boring and - if I may say so - _unsatisfactory_ way…" he chuckled, as his petite butler's hands now continued their gentle exploration down his torso, the little fingertips tracing every muscle.

"Sebastian…I mean m-master…I…I want..." the boy murmured softly, grinding his hips against the demon's in a self-explanatory motion, before wrapping his legs around Sebastian's waist. His master wasted no time in indulging him in earnest, and it hurt again, but Ciel welcomed the now familiar pain, mingled with growing pleasure, all wrapped into the delightful feeling of fully belonging to his lover, of being taken like this, body and soul.

"Nghh….ahh… more…more…!" Ciel moaned freely, occasionally biting onto his already abused lower lip, rolling his hips to meet the demon's powerful thrusts. Hungry fingers clawed at his skin, bruising the delicate flesh as his master possessed him even more brutally than before, driven by his lust, yet it was so good, so damn good!

"Ahhhhh… Haaaaaaaaaahhh, yes! Sebastian!" the young earl breathed out, viciously digging his fingernails into the demon's shoulder blades as he came, eyes rolling in the back of his head. Very soon he could hear his master growling his release as well, as hot seed spilled onto his torn insides.

"Haa! It's cold! It's cold!" Ciel suddenly jumped, only a few moments later, eyes widening to see Sebastian gently running a wet washcloth over his naked body. Just when the hell had he moved so fast?

"Shhh… we need to clean up this little mess," the demon soothed, leaning in to place a light kiss onto his butler's scrunched up face. The young earl whimpered a bit in discomfort as he was thoroughly cleaned with cold water, but it ended quickly and Sebastian slid down to kiss his lover's knee before covering him up with the soft blanket.

* * *

Ciel woke up dizzy and with somewhat of a headache, morosely realizing it was morning already. "Nghh… damn it!" he groaned, shifting under the covers, only to see Sebastian sleeping on the other side of the bed, with his back turned on him. His eyebrow lifted in surprise as he pushed the covers away and noted he was wearing his nightshirt, as if nothing had happened. _Stupid demon, just how predictable was this…_

Groaning in annoyance, the butler reluctantly decided to drag himself out of bed, because, as previously instructed, he was supposed to go down to the palace kitchens and bring up his master's breakfast soon. He sat up stretching and swung his legs over the edge of the tall bed, only to have a sharp pain shooting through his backside and up his spine.

"Aaahhhh!" he yelped, taken by surprise. "What the _fuck_?!" The young earl instantly covered his mouth and felt the need to slap himself, hard, because now he'd just dropped the 'F word'. _Oh great! Could I possibly get any lower than this? _he wondered, sadly noting that it had definitely been a night of several unfortunate firsts.

"Watch your mouth, you little mongrel!" the demon rebuked him without turning." What's the matter, are you sore or something?"

Ciel didn't answer, his cheeks already hot with embarrassment at recalling the previous night's events. He really didn't want to talk about it, especially not with his master. Not with anyone, actually, although the boy doubted that his malicious master would just 'not mention it', oh no, the demon would probably find a way to bring it up sooner or later, most likely in front of the other servants, so that his humiliation would be absolute. _Hell, how am I going to be able to look anyone in the eye after this?_

"You had that one coming for asking for a second _helping_, "Sebastian added with his back still turned. "See, I told you that you are a tart…"

The young earl could only let out a sob at this, burying his face in his hands.

_**To be continued…**_


	10. His love, damned

**CHAPTER 10**

"Master is getting more and more spoiled these days," Will observed, grabbing a large piece of ham off the breakfast plateau and stuffing it whole into his mouth. "Having a butler must have gone to his head, now he can't even sleep alone it seems… brace yourselves because soon enough he will need to be bathed and dressed like a baby!" the curly servant laughed.

Ciel however was not amused. The three Black Crow servants were sitting in the large kitchen of the Grimme mansion, at a long table which had been laid for all the servants who were there for the three-day birthday party, accompanying their masters. A large variety of rich, delicious looking breakfast dishes were scattered around, but the young earl was so upset that he couldn't put anything in his mouth. It really wouldn't have hurt so badly if Sebastian had just cut his throat instead of…of _this_.

"Aww, come on, mate! What's with the long face?" Will poked him, entirely unsuspecting of the unfolding drama. "Did he say something nasty to you again, is that it? What the hell did he say this time?"

The petite butler scowled, glancing at the now blonde minion who sat across from him with a bored expression, wondering whether the other servants' faces would drop if they ever came to know what had happened between him and their master the previous night. Maybe… Such a shit had probably never occurred to any of them to do – such a damned stupidity, that is! But most likely Sebastian wasn't going to keep the silence about it and miss the opportunity to hurt him further. He was sure they would end up finding out.

"Actually, master said that here it is perfectly acceptable for a lord to sleep with his servants, as long as they are willing," he blurted it out dryly, avoiding the others' gaze. _Well, he did say that, didn't he? And I suppose that applies to everyone… so they might just as well know. _

A long moment of silence followed the young earl's blunt statement, and Will stopped in mid-chew, blinking in utter confusion. That lasted for a bit, while Ciel gradually grew more and more uncomfortable – if that was even possible in his situation – until Espiritus suddenly burst out laughing. And the minion laughed so hard, as if it were the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

"Yeah, it's _perfectly acceptable_ if the respective master is a fucking whore himself!" she pointed, not bothering to lower her voice, although the Grimme household and the other servants having breakfast were sort of staring at them. "Phuuu… this is so good! I wonder if he meant, like… on the account of the money he keeps taking from us, hahahahaha!"

"Honestly now, at his fucking age he should know better than to say such things…" Will grumbled, resuming his feast. "How the hell is that funny, Es?"

The minion rolled her eyes. "You meant like, he should know better than to say such things _out loud_? Ah, you have no sense of humor!"

At this point, Ciel felt positively sick. The boy clutched his chest with both hands, sensing another nasty asthma crisis coming his way. "Es… I think…" he whispered, "I think I might have to go to the Undertaker's after all…"

* * *

Leaving the mansion for a few hours before the evening party was not a big problem, as that night's performance was mostly going to involve Will and Sebastian himself – of course in another disguise meant to trick the grumpy Lord Grimme. The curly haired servant was less than thrilled to be training alone with their master, especially after what he'd just heard, but Es had had no problem leaving him to his misery, since he wasn't the one to 'wear tight shorts and try to hook up demons' anyway. And Ciel was willing to do anything to escape the proximity of his demon lover ever for a short while, no matter how painful the consequences.

"This carriage is much better than ours…" the young earl suddenly felt the need to point the obvious, patting the soft cushions as they were on their way to town. He would have rather thought of anything else than his current situation and was desperate to take his mind off things. But beyond the windows there was nothing but the large grey park with rare leafless trees and dead shrubbery, soon to be replaced by the barren road through the dark forest.

"Yeah… but they're rich people," Es agreed, seemingly bored, and Ciel thought it was sort of reassuring that she had resumed her usual appearance for their little errand, Alois Trancy was the last person he wanted to see right now – even if it wasn't really him. "Undertaker's so frustrating…"she stated after a pause," I mean he's an idiot – that's clear…yet he's a handsome man, or at least he would be if he didn't fucking dress the way he does… but then again he's a mortician, how bad is that? Depressing…"

"He's not even a _man,_ he's a shinigami – a reaper. I daresay that's worse!" the petite butler replied, already horrified by the encounter he was going to have with said reaper and his needles. He buried his face in his hands and sighed, helpless.

Across from him he could hear the minion silently fidgeting and briefly wondered what was up with her anyway. "There's this stupid dance in town in the spring… if that fellow Faustus doesn't kill me anytime soon, I was thinking maybe I'll ask him to go with me…"

The blue orbs widened at her words as Ciel's head shot up suddenly in utter surprise. "_What?_ You want to ask _Undertaker_ to go to a dance with you?"

Es made a disappointed grimace. "You think he'd to say 'no'? Well… probably … that would be pathetic, at any rate"

Ciel didn't answer, watching absentmindedly the depressing landscape unfolding outside. _Not as pathetic as me… It's so stupid, this damned love thing! So humiliating, stupid and cruel! _He pulled the travel cloak tighter around his small body, in a futile attempt to shield himself from the cold that shriveled his flesh and gripped his heart like a claw. The boy could still feel his master's touch onto his skin, like some accursed imprint, so warm, sensuous and pleasurable. But then why had his words been so hurtful, so poisonous? Were his fingers lying, or his mouth? No, this was a useless question, clinging to a dry root of hope for something that had never been and could never be. _Sebastian is a demon. Of course he doesn't love me._ _All he's ever wanted was to feast on me!_ Yes. Feast. That was the right word for it.

* * *

All courage left the young earl as they stepped into the Undertaker's shop. The coughing fit from earlier had left him a nauseous sensation, and the odd smell floating around the cramped, dark and sinister looking parlor definitely wasn't helping. The petite butler almost wished he had kept his mouth shut and had done something to conceal his condition, hadn't it been for the plan formed in his mind. _Not like it's much of a plan…_ he thought morosely.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" the silver haired shinigami's voice resounded, alerted by the bell, yet the Undertaker remained out of sight. The minion paced around the shop impatient, glancing at various things, and eventually stopped in front of the counter.

"What the hell are these?" she asked, holding up a bone shaped biscuit she'd fished with two fingers from the small urn on display.

"Biscuits, but they don't taste good," Ciel warned, and the minion dropped it back instantly. "Didn't think they did…" she grumbled in a low voice. "Hey, Mr. Undertaker, are you coming this century? We don't have all day!"

"Ah, milady, it is really you!" the shinigami acknowledged them, finally popping from behind a ragged curtain with the most pleasant and unsuspecting smile plastered onto his face. "I thought I heard your sweet voice, and here you are indeed! What a lovely surprise! Now, how can I help you?"

Es rolled her eyes at the pointless flattery. "Guess what, Undertaker, our little butler has _asthma_. Do you mind explaining that?"

The shinigami's gaze trailed questioningly from her to Ciel, who had taken a sudden interest in his own nails and wouldn't look at him. "Hmmmm… that's interesting… the young earl here never mentioned it to me. But that was probably because I never asked, hehe..."

_How perceptive_, the boy thought. The Undertaker sighed, pressing his hands humbly onto his chest. "Well, at any rate, _mea culpa_. I promise to remedy this situation right away!" he declared, his long nailed fingers shooting out from his sleeve and gripping Ciel's arm. "It will not take long, I assure you, milady. In the meantime, please… feel free to take a look around, see if you like anything. Because, well, you never know what might happen…" he chuckled.

The minion grinned in reply. "The same to you, Mr. Undertaker! Might just as well do all this 'prudent planning' for yourself too…"

"Ehehehe… right. Now, if you will come this way, my little lord…"

* * *

Ciel flinched when the Undertaker's fingers touched his lobe to adjust the earring. His body went limp against the cold metal table and the young earl squeezed his eyes shut, at least to spare himself of the sight of the procedure, if the pain could not be avoided. The silver haired shinigami hummed softly as he prepared his tools, and Ciel was rather relieved that he hadn't mentioned the incident with Mr. Krech. The boy felt something sharp puncturing each of his lungs, and desperately tried to breathe through the pain, while his whole body seemed to clamp around the intruding objects, beyond his will. But then the needles were removed and some thick liquid was poured into the wounds, suffocating, and he choked.

"It's alright, it's alright, breathe normally," the Undertaker instructed in a soothing tone. "My, are you that afraid of me? Is that why you're keeping your eyes closed?" he then chuckled, much to Ciel's annoyance. Yet the petite butler did not open them, because the reaper's stupid grin was really the last thing he needed to see, on top of everything.

"I've seen some of your other puppets at lord Grimme's mansion," Ciel whispered, half-lying, because he wasn't quite sure that the girl he'd spotted walking out of the lord's bedroom early in the morning was indeed a body snatcher's creation. Yet there was a good chance that she was, judging by her empty eyes and the way her body moved, like in some sort of _un-lively_ trance. "And they are not like me. They walk around numb and… and they feel no pain." Truth be told, the young earl had no idea if said puppets actually felt no pain at all, seeing how they were 'functional' in every respect, but he'd envied her regardless. "Why is that?"

The shinigami sighed, and the boy heard him fidgeting around as he took his time before answering. "Well, it's because they are soulless and without a conscience or will of their own. But see, I put your soul back into this dainty little body, and that makes you special, and different. Hehehehe!"

_Damn you for that!_ the earl inwardly swore, full of chagrin. _It was the Undertaker who stole my soul after all and screwed Sebastian with the contract, but it's me paying for it, damn it to all hell!_ Under the renewed influence of his heart's torment, Ciel very nearly forgot about his current predicament.

"Speaking of which," the mortician went on, "I thought Grell told you to be careful with your attitude at the new 'job'… yet these unsightly bruises tell quite a different story. Looks like you've been naughty, my little lord"

"_What_?" The earl's eyes snapped open, glancing down at his abused body, and instantly he felt sick again. That was the one thing he'd failed to consider altogether when deciding to come here and subject himself to treatment, and now the Undertaker probably _knew_. He knew and was playing dumb about it, the butler was sure of it.

"I didn't do anything…" he breathed out, new tears sliding over his cold, already wet cheeks. _No, stop it! Stop it! Don't cry now, damn it!_

The Undertaker chuckled, working to loosen the earring a bit again, restoring Ciel's freedom of movement. "Of course you didn't, I'm sure of it!" he croaked. "There, we're all done, you can get dressed now"

But all the boy could do was to curl into a tight ball, a violent headache throbbing in his temples, along with a new wave of relentless nausea. He knew that for the slightest chance of getting the relief his whole being so craved he should have opened his mouth and spoken. He should have let it out. But it was so hard, so hard! _'I told you that you are a tart…' No, I can't say that out loud, I could never… _Ciel tormented himself, feeling his consciousness beginning to slip away in the whirlpool of nausea and pain. His heart lay shattered into a million pieces, and they were all sharp, making his insides bleed. The petite butler had replayed everything in his mind over and over again, to the point of madness – Sebastian's touches, his words, every single way in which he _felt_ to his unfortunate lover, along with all the bitter disappointment, cruel humiliation, excruciating pain and above all love, endless love. But numbness refused to come, the darkness of a swoon refused to soothe him, and the pain only seemed to grow more vivid every single time.

"I don't understand, what is the matter with you, my little lord? You should be just fine now…" the Undertaker's voice partially broke the evil spell, and the boy was gently hauled up into a sitting position.

"My master slept with me. That's how I got these bruises, now you know. And soon everyone will know, because he'll probably tell everyone, so that not a soul will be left unaware that I am a _whore_." Ciel breathed it out bitterly, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his forehead, because the awful headache was blurring his vision.

Beside him the Undertaker remained still, scratching his head. "Heh…well… maybe I didn't necessarily want to know that…" he stated after a while, as he helped Ciel back into his clothes with awkward movements.

"Please, make me like your other puppets," the young earl whispered, choking. "I don't want to feel anything anymore. I want to be void of this pain, I want to be empty…" he pleaded, but the Undertaker shook his head.

"It doesn't work that way, my little lord. Not after this experiment went so well with you… and certainly not after you sent a very drunk Mr. Krech to wreck havoc in my shop. Good thing that he wasn't that hard to deal with and didn't do much damage, because if he'd done it I would have come after you and it wouldn't have been funny at all!"

Ciel chewed his lip, averting his gaze._ Hell, this was such a stupid idea! Of course he wouldn't help me!_ "Please… I'll do anything… I'll do anything you want!" He swung his legs over the edge of the table and jumped down. Stepping a bit unsteady, he reached up to touch Undertaker's face, but the shinigami gently gripped his wrist in mid-air.

"If this is a joke, earl, it might be a good one, but I don't do such things," he said with a wry smile. "How about I tell you a better joke instead?"

The petite butler was in no mood for any kind of joke, but the Undertaker grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around to face the door. "Out there, beyond this door, there's my only daughter. There's no need for her to know, but I want you to take care of her." Saying that, the reaper slipped a bottle of pills into the earl's small hand.

* * *

The blue orbs stared back at him from the mirror wide and haunted as he smudged charcoal around them and combed his hair so that the dark bangs covered his eyes. The boy bit his lips methodically until they were red and plump, taking an almost perverted pleasure in the pain he was inflicting onto himself. Ciel briefly inspected his full-black outfit – it was plain and unattractive, and he had no idea how to make it so. But he had a strong suspicion that there was no need for it anyway. He pulled the small bottle of pills out of his pocket and flicked the lid open, letting one tiny, silvery sphere roll into his palm.

"Oh, you think I'm a tart? Fine…I am," the young earl whispered, pushing aside the curtain leading into the ballroom and popping the pill into his mouth. And the world slowed down.

_**To be continued…**_


	11. His prey, lured

**CHAPTER 11**

Lady Ophelia's myriad of jewels shone brightly in the golden candlelight, as she swayed through the guests in a frilly purple dress, blowing kisses and offering wide smiles. By her side, the illustrious Lord Grimme, member of the Council, was as sullen as ever, once more living up to his name. All these absurd parties were only for his daughter's entertainment - he explained to anyone who would listen - after all the poor 'girl' had been widowed so young. Not that there was much about her untimely departed husband though, it should be noted. But without his knowledge Lady Ophelia was immensely happy, because there for her personal entertainment, ready to please her in every way and give in to her every whim was none other than the handsome Sebastian Michaelis, much to the said demon's own despair and his servants' endless amusement.

For that night's show, Sebastian - donning another spectacular and clever disguise – was going to spar with Will in a demonstration of skills meant to amaze the noble guests, who didn't normally bother to take too many steps away from the chairs, carriages or whatever seats they possessed. Es and Ciel were supposed to mingle with the crowd, thus giving Faustus a chance to approach the blonde. Or so was the plan, anyway, for their master had given only scarce details of his actual intentions.

"This is an even worse idea than that stupid play!" Will grumbled, running a nervous hand through his hair and threatening the fragile order of his rebellious strands. His fancy play costume had been replaced by a simple black sports suit of elegant cut but in no way outstanding, and it only added to his displeasure.

"I don't see how anything could be a worse idea than some sugary shit drama mixed with dry humping," Es stated bluntly, fidgeting. "And there's nothing to worry about, you'll be alright. It's not like it's dangerous and you always enjoy a good fight, don't you?"

The olive skinned servant muttered something in reply, but Ciel didn't hear it. He stood beside Es, blinking slowly from time to time, as he observed everything through his newly dulled senses. Somewhere, towards the middle of the immense ballroom, dancing had started and he saw his master spinning with light, gracious steps, lady Ophelia blushing and radiant in his arms. And Sebastian was so handsome – in his black velvet attire completed by a delicate mask of the same soft fabric – but the young earl almost didn't care anymore. Around him everything was slow, everything was so much softer, as if all the sharp edges of this world had been miraculously blunted.

"You can't leave me here alone until it starts! Just what the hell am I supposed to do all by myself?" Will protested. "And if I'm really lucky some horrid hag will come cling to me and I won't be able to shake her off!"

"Handle yourself, Will, you're not a child! And you're not the one wearing these stupid shorts!" the minion cut off his whining, pointing down to the respective miniscule piece of clothing, which was this time completed by a frilly white shirt and lacy black suspenders. "Now, where the hell is Faustus?"

"How do we even know he's here?" Ciel asked as he was being pulled through the crowd towards some empty seats closer to the stage and the drinks area. "Faustus, I mean…" he added, still peeking over to where his master was patiently enduring his own torment every time he got the chance.

The blonde dropped casually onto the velvety cushions, crossing her legs and pulling out a cigar she'd 'collected' from somewhere unknown. "Hell, master said he'd be here… And he was here last night, wasn't he?" she explained, motioning for one of the passing servants for a light."I've heard he's got much better connections with the Council, at least officially… Unlike us, who are both officially and unofficially screwed, that is. I suppose that's because he's got a more powerful household, and all his minions are demons too"

Ciel took the offered cigar with an unsteady hand and took a long drag from the very beginning, choking successfully. "We could have too, maybe…ah..gah-" he stammered between coughs and awkward gasps of air, " if master married Lady Ophelia. He'd be better off with her, don't you think?"

_Sebastian, married… Married? Why the hell did I just say that_? he wondered briefly, but his thoughts dissipated as quickly as they'd come in the drug inflicted haziness.

"I'm sure that's exactly what Lord Grimme has in mind – to see his precious daughter married to a demon, ha! It's sure to do more bad than good, but fortunately master is not considering it," the minion replied, taking back the cigar with a light snicker. Soon enough, her attention was drawn elsewhere, as she spotted Faustus entering the ballroom, this time with a different woman.

"Other than their servants, demons don't keep the same company for too long," Es pointed. "Look there!" But the young earl was unimpressed by their prey's arrival – although 'prey' was an unfitting word for the one they were after, instead random thoughts made their way through his mind, and he found himself unable to dwell on any of them in particular. _Out there, beyond this door, there's my only daughter. There's no need for her to know, but I want you to take care of her… _Oh hell, he'd forgotten all about it!

Ciel reached for a glass of champagne and took a long sip before deciding what he really wanted to say. He shouldn't have said anything, the petite butler told himself – it wasn't his business in the slightest, but it wasn't right for Espiritus to fancy her own father.

"Um… you know, Es…" he began rather unsure, "earlier… well, the Undertaker mentioned something… rather peculiar…"

"Yeah?" The blonde's eyes were trained on Faustus' tall frame as he advanced slowly through the crowd, stopping from time to time to talk with various guests. Yet he seemed to have discreetly noticed his former charge's lookalike as well.

"He said…uh… (Ciel was uncertain of his phrasing so he took another large gulp from his glass), while he was examining me… he said that I reminded him of his own child…" the earl finally let it out, as awkward as it had sounded it was still something. "So I suppose that means he has a child… I guess?"

Es frowned a bit, blowing out a soft cloud of scented smoke, turning away from Faustus. "A child, eh? How is that peculiar?"

"I don't know… he doesn't look the type, does he? I mean, to have children… And there's no wife about, and he didn't mention anything of the kind… so maybe he was never married to begin with," Ciel blurted out rapidly, still not knowing how to put it, "All I want to say is that I don't think he's a decent fellow, the Undertaker!"

The minion laughed out loud. "Ciel, he's a body snatcher, for fuck's sake! Of course he's not a _decent fellow_!"

"But you said you fancy him! And you'd ask him to go to the dance with you!" the petite butler pointed, pouting.

"It's not that serious a matter, it sort of comes and goes anyway, so don't you worry about it," she said, still amused. "Here comes our man, now go get me a drink!"

* * *

The young earl trotted away to the drinks table on unsteady feet. Carrying that simple conversation had exhausted him and now found that his ability to focus was all spent. That, and the two glasses of champagne he'd downed in a haste, and whatever bullshit Espiritus was smoking (what the hell, he thought women were not supposed to smoke?) had not helped at all. But numb was good, he reminded himself, glancing down at the colorful glasses, half fascinated by the reflection of light in the various liquids. He picked one randomly and brought it to his nose, being met with a vague scent of strawberries.

_I suppose Trancy would have drank this syrupy bullshit, so we'd better serve Faustus an authentic show…_ he reasoned with surprising clarity for a fleeting moment, deciding that it would do, and headed back to the blonde, who still sat there alone, smoking.

"Where is he? I though you said he was coming," the boy asked, handing over the drink, but the minion shrugged. "He _was_ coming, but at some point he just disappeared! Hell, I'm not good at this – 'be a social butterfly he says', pfffft, and my head is beginning to ache… Stick around anyway, yeah?"

Ciel dropped onto the other side of the couch, behind the blonde, holding his head in his hands. Somewhere close to the stage Lady Ophelia was now presenting the night's performance, but he was not in the mood for watching another display of his master's perfection.

"I believe something as foul as this cigar hardly belongs in a fine mouth such as yours…"

Despite the numbness of his limbs, the young earl very nearly jumped at those words, spoken by the familiar soft and even tone of the former Trancy butler. He needed not turn to know that Faustus was right behind him. The spider demon wasn't there for him this time, but his body tensed nevertheless at the memory of the hunger he'd once read in those feral, golden eyes.

"Do I know you, sir?" the minion replied, part bluntly and part shyly to the demon's comment, and, brushing his bangs further into his face, Ciel half turned to peek at the pair.

"Yes and no," came the gentle reply, "You may not know me now, but I have a reason to believe that we have known each other once," Faustus stated, his hand rising to lift the blonde's chin, as if wanting to inspect the boy's neck, before it was sharply pushed away.

"Are you intoxicated, sir? I shall ask you not to touch me!"

But the spider demon was by no means deterred in his purposes of getting to the bottom of things. "I have always wondered how this works, how the body snatchers do it," he said, drawing closer to the minion, "restoring a body to a flawless perfection – not a mark to it, not a scar… but what puzzles me the most is, of course, the reanimation part. For I have heard that these exquisite puppets do have a soul, although not the original one, but a surrogate…"

"What?"

"Ah, but of course, you don't remember any of it, I presume…" Faustus went on, his long, slender fingers finding their way into the golden strands, "Even if I can still smell some remnants of your original soul attached to this flesh…"

"Sir, if you don't want to deal with my master, you will do good to remove yourself from here! I will call my master, I will-"

"There is no need," Faustus soothed, pulling the boy closer to him, while an arm went around the fragile shoulders, "Why would you call him? I know not who this master is, but I can tell that he is cruel to you! I have seen you perform last night – you are such a sensitive artist – but your master is asking hurtful things of you, does he not? I could tell that you were made to suffer. Well… why don't you tell me your name?"

"Why? I thought you said you knew me… " the fake 'Alois' replied, "I don't have a name, so use whatever name you please, but it will come at a price. You have been warned, good sir…" Es whispered in a seductively innocent tone.

Faustus breathed out a soft chuckle, rummaging into one of his pockets. He then pulled out his hand, holding up something for the blonde to see – it was a beautiful spider shaped ruby brooch. "What about this, my pet? Do you know what this is?"

"It's a bug," the minion said absolutely serene and indifferent, and for the briefest moment the demon did look like he'd been slapped in the face, having undoubtedly underestimated his potential prey's ability to insult him. "It is but a trinket, I admit," he replied with a somewhat of a wry smile, but I reckoned it would suffice, if I just wanted to… get to know you better…"

"Get to… know me better? I'm sure you'd like that, sir!" She had spoken calmly, yet the tip of a sharp cane Ciel hadn't even been aware that the blonde had was shoved into Faustus' chest, while the minion abruptly put some distance between them. "Just _what_ exactly do you think I am?" Saying that, 'Alois' stood up from the couch most graciously and walked away, hips swaying in those outrageous shorts, leaving the demon rather perplexed.

* * *

"What feline grace! What shapely curves! And that sunkissed skin, so soft and alluring, like the enticing petal of a dark flower which blooms at midnight only, oh... who was that lovely boy?!"

Ciel was stirred from his boredom by the sudden exclamation, which was awfully familiar in a very unpleasant way. He turned his head from where he sat all alone – Es had mingled with the crowd as more dancing had followed the short performance, and Faustus had followed with uncharacteristic eagerness – to see none other than Viscount Druitt (for his voice, as well as the stupidities he was usually debiting were unmistakable), looking more ridiculous than ever, in a pearly white attire of peculiar shape, adorned with several multicolored rows of beads.

_What the hell is he doing here, in Underworld? And he looks like shit too… _the young earl wondered dizzily, taking in the man's sight with a scowl. _Did he die or something? Because for some reason that didn't help at all… _

The Viscount, debating his previous remarks with another man, was now coming his way, and the petite butler snickered bitterly as a sudden idea came upon him. He stood up slowly, just as Druitt was passing, and accidentally on purpose bumped into him, spilling his drink onto the pristine garments.

"Aaah!" the blonde exclaimed, horrified by the large stain now adorning the front of his clothes.

"Oh my, I…am terribly sorry!" Ciel humbly apologized, "I will clean this right away! Please, have a seat here for a moment"

_Faustus would have served this purpose so much better, but now I suppose Druitt will do… _the young earl told himself as he picked a napkin from a nearby table and proceeded to dab at the blonde's clothes carefully, after having convinced the nervous young man to sit still for a bit. What purpose exactly would have Faustus served much better it was rather unclear, even to himself, but … Lady Ophelia wasn't beautiful, she wasn't even young anymore, she was charmless and rather stupid, and Sebastian was far from thrilled about having to spend so much time with her, but still, Ciel wanted nothing more than to wipe that damned smile off his face.

The petite butler examined his prey - Viscount Druitt wasn't exactly sober himself, for his cheeks were flushed and his eyes shone feverishly almost, with some bizarre brightness. Whether he'd happened to mix some 'peculiar spices' into his wine was anybody's guess, but there was a strong chance that he had.

"Have we met before?" Druitt asked, just as Ciel was uselessly struggling for a clever line to strike up a small talk, and a sly smile instantly crept upon the boy's face at hearing what he wanted. He hesitated a bit for an answer, but the blonde did not, agile fingers moving to hold up his chin, and the young man stared into the half lidded blue orbs with questioning interest.

"Maybe… are you here by yourself?" the boy asked, because if the Viscount was in some particular company, that would have complicated things, or attracted more attention than necessary.

"I was with some acquaintances, but they seem to have abandoned me. Alas! People here are awfully insensitive! They have no eye for grace, beauty doesn't move them, it does not stir within them that sweet shudder which comes to embrace my awed heart!" the blonde confessed, and Ciel scowled, struggling for a more compassionate countenance and failing altogether.

"That is regrettable indeed… but fear not, Viscount, I shall not abandon you"

Druitt sniffed (he wasn't crying, was he? What the hell?). "That is so kind of you, earl Phantomhive! Oh, I am so immensely happy to have met you here!"

_Oh hell, he realised who I am! And what a monumental backfire, I bet that stupid demon will now laugh his ass out! _Ciel though morosely, dropping onto the seat exhausted and handing the Viscount another napkin to dry his sudden tears._ Just how immensely stupid was this? _Not to mention how immensely stupid was what he was about to do.

"Oh my, earl, but you seem to be in quite a predicament!" the young man realised suddenly, in a whim caused by whatever was currently running through his system, for he wasn't by nature a caring fellow. "Pray tell me, how can I bring solace upon your unfortunate soul?"

His idiocy was utterly exhausting, Ciel pondered, and he'd never seen the man so disheveled and emotional. _Maybe he has gone mad? Not that he was ever entirely right in the head… _Yet his hand rose_, _with a will of its own, cupping the man's heated cheek. The Viscount was wearing makeup, some pinkish dust to make his face appear rosy, and in any other circumstances the young earl would have undoubtedly found it repulsive. But not now. Now it was just the flesh, pulsing dully under his fingers, and flesh didn't feel like anything. It should have had, but it didn't. Not anymore.

"Oh earl, I've always know it was you, my delicious little robin! I had just meant to give you a bit of a fright, just to feel your little heart beat faster, in some genuine, real emotion…" the petite butler heard, just before Druitt's mouth was gently pressed onto his, but that didn't feel like anything either. It was rather enjoyable, this incapacity to experience any disgust, any loathing, not even towards oneself.

When the blonde Viscount eventually sat up and took the young earl's hand in his sweaty palm, Ciel followed absentmindedly, not even bothering to turn and see if his master was observing this. He was discreetly led out of the large ballroom and into a dark living, where he was laid onto a soft sofa and his clothes discarded without hurry. And the irony was, Druitt turned out to be a passionate yet gentle lover. There was no savageness in his touch, no will to tear and rip apart, he seemed almost loving.

_Be as brutal as you like, and make it painful to your heart's content. Engrave the pain of being alive into my soul… because now I no longer care_

_**To be continued**_


	12. His butler, confession

**CHAPTER 12**

My dear readers, I have an important (and probably a bit unpleasant) announcement to make : due to the closing of year end statutory financial statements here in Romania (which I sadly have to see to for several clients) and also to a professional exam which I'll have to attempt quite soon, both my stories will be on hiatus until after June 3rd. After which I shall be back, therefore do not despair entirely:))

* * *

A few rays of light were cruelly teasing his closed eyelids and, with a low groan, Ciel stirred slowly. During his sleep the effects of the pills and of the drinks he'd so mindlessly mixed the night before had eventually worn off, leaving the young earl now extremely aware of a pounding headache developing slowly but surely in the back of his skull. And where the hell was he? His gaze scanned the unfamiliar room still mostly sunken in darkness - for it was quite early in the morning and heavy curtains were almost entirely covering the windows – soft sofas and armchairs scattered around fancy coffee tables, a small writing desk in one corner, laden with papers and whatnot, and it suddenly struck him that it wasn't even a bedroom.

He himself was lying on a sofa instead of a proper bed, and he wasn't alone. The boy let out another groan, scowling a bit as he noticed the blonde snuggled closely to his bare body. Druitt was snoring softly, with a peaceful and most serene expression on his still youthful face, and the earl rolled his eyes, pulling himself out of the awkward embrace and from under the Viscount's garments, currently covering both their naked bodies.

A wave of nausea washed over the boy as he bent to collect his own discarded clothing from the floor, and he had to sit upright again, forcing a few deep breaths before the unpleasant feeling eventually went away. His mouth felt incredibly dry and the petite butler inwardly cursed the Undertaker and his pills, which he deemed to be at the root of all his current troubles.

After pulling his clothes on with quite the difficulty – although it was a problem he rather struggled with on a daily basis – Ciel took his time assessing the situation. Behind him the Viscount was still fast asleep, which was a good thing, because it meant he could easily be abandoned sans explanations. And what was there to explain anyway? It wasn't so good if he was still going to be there for the third and last of Lord Grimme's birthday parties, in case he happened to run into the earl still maintaining memories of the previous night. But then again Druitt had been drunk – or _at least_ drunk, to put it mildly – and his claims, in case there were any, could have been easily dismissed as nothing but his mere fantasies.

And so, deciding there was no Druitt related danger which couldn't be handled, the young earl stood up determined and walked out of the room, leaving the blonde Viscount to his fate.

* * *

"Take them off! Now!" Ciel heard as he drew closer to the other servants' bedroom, after saying pass to the rich breakfast available down in the kitchens. He still wasn't feeling too well.

"But look, I tore your stocking too! You need to be more patient!" Will pleaded, apparently to deaf ears.

"Fuck the stockings already! Take them off I said! Es ordered impatient, and the butler pressed the knob rather wary of the sight he would meet inside said bedroom. But it was just Will, knelt awkwardly on the floor, struggling to untie the complicated purple ribbons and pull out the minion's knee-high boots.

"Aaaaaaaaaaahhhh! At last…" she sighed in relief as soon as her feet were free, wriggling her toes with a pained grimace. "My feet are killing me! It is beyond me how that boy could wear something like this every day…"

Ciel shoved his hands deep into his pockets, shifting uncomfortably. Were they wondering where he'd been the past two nights? "So, how'd it go with Faustus last night? He looked pretty set on chasing you…" he said hurriedly, more for the sake of preventing other subjects from being brought up.

Espiritus dropped back on the mattress with an exhausted air. "I have to say – Alois loved him, those weren't just the words of a mindless child, but… I mean he does have a way with words and a certain manner when he wants to, they all have I guess, but I for one find him incredibly boring! Honestly, I've never met anyone so dull. And it's not like I haven't met plenty of idiots until now… He did chase me, yes… rather fruitless I have to say, but I was just following instructions and-"

"Not like he gave up, though," Will cut in, "he tried to barge in on us! That was most rude, I say!"

"You don't know that!" The minion rolled her eyes. "Will woke up and saw the knob moving at some point during the night and crapped his pants," she explained, "but we don't know who it was. It wasn't you, was it Ciel? We deemed it more safe to turn the key in the lock, but you should have shouted anyway"

The young earl flinched. "No, no… it wasn't me… In fact, master wanted me to look after him. He made me stay with him again, for fear of potential unwanted intrusions upon his light sleep. He reckoned that Lady Ophelia must have the keys to every room in this house," he improvised in a low voice.

Much to his relief, Es did not question his explanation, but found it quite amusing. "What do you know, " she said laughing, "if master hasn't become the purest, most delicate flower of spring! I tell you, he must be getting soft or something!"

"You're the one to push all his buttons, in more ways than one, mate," Will observed, "turns out he can't take one step without his butler. Like I said, soon enough you'll have to tend to him as if to a baby. He was rather pissed a bit earlier, because you were probably down for breakfast and he couldn't locate his own slippers without much trouble…"

"What…?" _Oh hell, so he _was_ looking for me…_ _I must be in trouble now…_ Ciel though, fighting back a shudder. "What did he say, or…?"

"He popped up in here to see if we were still alive, basically," the curly haired boy explained, "but he was sort of dark in the face, and then he said 'have you seen my damned butler anywhere?' And then Es told him that no one was going to eat him just because you were out for a bit, and I think it pissed him off even more…"

* * *

The young earl had every reason to dread the encounter with his master later on, but thankfully Sebastian spent his morning lounging in the luxurious living room or wandering around the barren garden, with Lady Ophelia clinging to his arm like an extra appendage. An extremely obnoxious one. This could have been a good thing, his petite butler pondered, seeing how his anger would have the chance to wear off until their meeting, but it could have also been bad if the demon used all this time to brood over his disappearance.

Ciel made his way into his master's bedroom that afternoon, wary of whatever reaction the demon might have. Did he know anything? The earl hoped with all his heart that Sebastian was too preoccupied now with the task at hand, which had to be brought to an end possibly that very night, and having spent at least two hours alone with his minion to go over his mysterious plan of capturing Faustus, and thus he was off his butler's case for the moment.

So he walked in, as noiseless as possible, and proceeded to collect the various garments scattered around, folding them as best as he could, and to make the bed rather clumsily, struggling a bit with the covers his master had left in disarray since morning. Honestly, after seeing him before as such an impeccable butler, it was rather striking for one to notice the way in which Sebastian was dealing with his own things. Ciel could understand why the demon tolerated the horrible state of his kitchen, (he had probably never been there at all) – since he almost never ate, not that kind of food anyway. But hell, he did wear clothes, at least in _this form, _and he did sleep in a bed.

"Come here"

The young earl almost jumped at hearing the words, however soft spoken by his master, who turned out to be hidden behind his dressing screen, where a large and lavish bathtub had been brought especially for his use. And there sat the demon, mostly sunken the richly scented bath foam, in a relaxed posture, observing his petite butler with half lidded eyes.

"My, you don't look so good… Mind explaining that?"

That particular question reminded Ciel of his earlier predicament and he very nearly felt a new wave of nausea while struggling to come up with an explanation that would satisfy Sebastian. His hands dug helplessly inside the pockets of his coat, and there they were – Undertaker's pills. It was probably a bad idea, he pondered rapidly, but it might just have worked. _Of course, if he doesn't already know what really happened… _But the earl mentally dismissed that possibility.

"The Undertaker has given me these pills yesterday, for the asthma… and I felt better, well, asthma-wise… but they've made me a bit sick too… I couldn't put anything in my mouth all day…" he offered weakly, knowing that the hesitation in his tone clearly spelled a lie, but still hoping against all odds that the poor excuse would hold.

Sebastian's eyebrows rose the slightest bit as he shrugged, rather indifferent. "Right… well that's unfortunate," he said, slumping even more at the end of the bathtub. "Strip"

"What? N-no!" Ciel stammered, taking a step back involuntarily, before the demon's hand shot up and gripped his wrist. "Y-you said that it is perfectly acceptable for a lord to sleep with his servants, _only if_ they are willing! And I don't want to!" he nearly cried, but found that he couldn't struggle. To which the demon appeared genuinely surprised.

"Actually, I don't recall using the word 'only'," he pointed calmly, "and furthermore, there is something that you, earl Phantomhive, will need to understand very clearly now - I _bought_ you, in more than one way, if I may say so. Therefore, you belong to me, body, soul, everything that you are and everything that you have _is mine_. No one but me is allowed to touch you. Not to mention that by the laws of this world you (and saying that the demon's fingers rose to touch the skull shaped earring bud the boy was wearing) are not even supposed to have a will of your own…"

And that was how it was really, Ciel concluded, and although it hurt him it came as no surprise. It only made sense for him to belong fully to the demon he'd sold his soul to, it was just that now the demon was claiming even more than his soul_. Thus, I am left to suffer his loveless touch, which does nothing, but taint me and pain me to no end…_

The young earl said no more to that, simply averting his gaze as he began peeling off his clothing, and carelessly let it pile up in a messy heap at his feet. It briefly crossed his mind that he would have to wear them again after bathing, because he didn't have any change. He finished as quickly as he could – better get this over with – and climbed into the large bathtub, proceeding to scoot to the other end, curling up and hugging his knees uncomfortably.

"It is of no use to be such a prude now, little lord, after having so openly given yourself to me two nights ago," Sebastian said in a neutral manner, "and I am also well aware of _where_ and in _whose_ company you woke up this morning"

A surge of panic coursed through the petite butler's body upon hearing his master's words, and he lowered his gaze even more, fighting back a shudder. But there seemed to be no anger in those words, they were nothing but a simple statement, as if his master didn't care at all. _But he should care, since he's just emphasized that I am his and no one else should touch me… so why doesn't he now?_

"How will you punish me?" he asked with a bit of morbid curiosity.

Sebastian sighed. "Indeed, how should I punish you? I don't see what good would that do…" He shrugged again, with a distant air. "At any rate, you should be ashamed of yourself"

The young earl shrugged in turn, curling up even more as if in an attempt to become smaller, to occupy less space. His own shame, and his own pride, oh… those were the last things he could have been concerned with.

"You should punish me though… because I am so deep in wrongness, so much-"Ciel whispered, blinking slowly because his heavy eyelids begged for the comfort of darkness, "so much that I love you," he eventually breathed, still not looking at his master.

At the other end of the bathtub Sebastian shifted a bit, hauling himself to a more upright position, and sighed, letting his gaze wander around the small enclosure, past the small slumped form of his former contractor. "_This_ isn't love. You simply lust for me, and _that_ is something entirely different" he said softly, even with a hint of gentleness, but which soothed no one.

He wasn't even worth the demon's fury, Ciel thought. Had Faustus been furious when Trancy had so desperately confessed his feelings? He wondered. Or maybe all he'd felt had been a deep disdain towards such a profoundly human emotion, of which one such as he knew nothing. From a demon's point of view, love was undoubtedly bad, and stupid. It weakened resolve, blunted the mind and stripped one of their pride to such an extent that it made them pitiable at most. Except… demons knew no pity.

Sebastian continued to soak himself quite relaxed, until he noticed his butler's head falling backwards against the porcelain edge with a dull thud, followed by his body slipping lower and lower until he sunk completely. The demon sighed again, exhaling slowly, before reaching forward to pull the boy out of the water.

"I don't think that drowning in the bathtub has ever helped anyone either…" he stated, holding up the earl's face and brushing the wet strands off his eyes.

"You know nothing about it!" Ciel suddenly snapped with an angry snort, but which failed to conceal how broken and vulnerable he really was. He wanted to pull himself away from his master's grip, to struggle against it, but simply did not find enough energy to do so. "How could you possibly understand? You know nothing! Nothing!"

The demon sighed again, pulling the boy up to straddle his lap, making him even more uncomfortable in the process. "Indeed, I may know of it as much as you know about bathing yourself," he shook his head briefly, picking up a piece of soap and beginning to lather his own palms. "But I can tell you this – while I served as your butler you, my little lord, have slapped, insulted, belittled me or have otherwise manifested your bad temper and unpleasant character countless times. If this is love, then-"

"It's not like that!" the young earl protested, his voice choked with chagrin, because the demon was right, but still… "I was alone all my life, all my life, except when I was with you! Your arms kept me so safe, and you were always there with me, and I wasn't alone anymore. But in the same time… I didn't know what to do, how to be, for my heart was so untouched, so loveless, and it had all felt so cold for such a long time!" he murmured, fingers absentmindedly tangling into Sebastian's damp strands.

"So you shoved cheesecake into my face for good measure," the demon observed, not without a sense of humor. "Well, I suppose that's as good an approach as any, when one doesn't know what to do…" he added, rubbing the soap into his butler's hair first, and then continued down onto his neck and shoulders.

"I deserve it, don't I?" Ciel whispered sadly, dropping forward and resting his forehead against his master's shoulder. "I deserve you mocking me like this, even… thinking my soul no longer worthy. I deserve you calling me names, and treating me like a mindless puppet. Don't I,… _master_? I have brought this upon myself…"

"Just as much as I have brought it upon myself to begin with, one could say," Sebastian replied softly, continuing to focus on bathing him. „for it was I who made the choice of serving you. You could have very well said that all which I have endured was in fact my own fault. And you would have been right, my little lord…" He finished rinsing the boy's hair and his large palms came to rest on the small hips, under water. "If you want me to let you go now, I will…" the demon offered, the beginning of a smirk barely repressed on the corners of his mouth.

But how could the young earl refuse even the meager bits offered to him? It was beyond his will to do so. Closing his eyes, he crashed his lips against his master's in a sloppy kiss, moaning in anticipation and relishing in the warmth of the other's breath. And he was met with no opposition.

_**To be continued**_


	13. His board, set

**CHAPTER 13**

A/N – finally, I am BACK! And things will get ugly…that's a promise ;)

* * *

"It has to be done quietly, without drawing too much attention to ourselves," the demon explained, stretching his long legs forward, "it is the Council's wish that no fuss be made about it, just… quick and dirty if you will"

By his side, his blue eyed butler stood unmoved, again void of all emotion thanks to the Undertaker's pills. They really made everything so simple… Yet it was a peaceful serenity which Sebastian's other servants did not share in that particular moment.

"But there will be a lot of people at the party, milord, it would be hard to distract them all to such an extent. And you mentioned yourself earlier that Lord Grimme is already suspicious of your true identity – he would really not appreciate if on top of everything you started a commotion at his all-important birthday party, master," the minion pointed. "How do you suggest we do it?"

The raven haired demon smirked, bringing the tips of his black nailed fingers together. "Well, like I said – quick and dirty. You will not be going to the party tonight, in fact none of us will. We'll just sit and wait and when he comes looking for you we will make our move. Since all the guests will be at the party, no one will hear anything or interfere. It should go smoothly... sort of"

"What of Lady Ophelia, master?" Ciel asked softly, causing Sebastian to instantly scowl at the mention of his annoying and extremely persistent suitor. "What will she do without you?"

"Unfortunately I will be too sick to attend tonight, so I shall remain in my room, resting, and my butler will take care of me, since I couldn't bear anyone else to see me in this pitiful state, especially her!" the demon breathed out in a huff, gripping the young earl's wrist as his gaze shot up to check whether the irony he'd thought he felt in the boy's words was more than just an impression. The rather blank stare he was met with seemed to puzzle him for the briefest moment, before his attention returned to the conversation.

"How could you be sick? You're a demon…" Espiritus pointed bluntly, raising an eyebrow.

Sebastian sighed, with a dramatic air. "Indeed, I don't know whether you truly think me infallible or you're just plain insensitive to my suffering, though I am strongly inclined to believe the latter. A demon can ail just as much as the next person, in certain circumstances, but what would you know of it? And even if it were impossible for me to get sick, how do you think that Ophelia could question it? Her knowledge doesn't go very far past embroidery and some light formal conversation"

Behind the minion, Will was fidgeting, uncomfortable, and he eventually leaned to whisper something in the blonde's ear.

"If you're thinking that Faustus won't go without a fight, you are probably right," their master stated calmly. "So if you're concerned by that, by all means, be concerned," he added with a smirk. "This clearly won't be anything like your average tavern havoc wreaking"

The blonde grinned, her dainty hand moving down to grip the cane she carried as she stood up to leave. "No, I am quite aware it will bring much less money… master. But I reckon that kicking a demon's ass should make up for it entertaining-wise!"

* * *

Ciel returned from Lady Ophelia's apartments with a serious headache after delivering the news about his master's predicament. The lady had burst into bitter tears at being prohibited from visiting her unfortunate sick lover, had begged and pleaded, eventually ending up with the conclusion that he was 'such a proud little fool'. _What the hell?_ There was nothing 'little' about Sebastian! The earl would have liked to shake this stupid, bland woman from her amorous daze if he could, just to see the demon lose his power over her, just to chip that enormous ego just the slightest bit. _Just to make him feel the tiniest amount of chagrin…_ But of course, she was a lost cause and it had bothered him all the more to spend so much time attempting to soothe her while she'd sobbed pathetically into his shirt like some silly little girl – and she hadn't even been drunk this time. Lady Ophelia reminded the young earl of his former fiancée to a great extent, from the overdone blonde locks to the high pitched, spoiled tone of voice and the incessant ranting, and it annoyed him to no end. As such, he was rather relieved to walk back to their room. Only to be faced by more whining.

"Why did you have to challenge him again, Es? You know how he is! Now he won't even move a finger to help us, and that fellow's a demon, for fuck's sake! We'll be done for!" Will kept complaining, nervously pacing back and forth in the small dormitory.

The minion snorted and waved her hand lazily from the armchair she was slumped upon gracelessly, toying with the long cane. "As if he's ever helped us with anything! You stupid boy! But you are wrong this time, because he's the one who has the pendant, so he'll be the one using it to capture Faustus' _essence_, or whatever the hell that is. Master will have to get his hands dirty with this one, eheheheh!"

_Undertaker's daughter…_ the petite butler pondered, dropping on the edge of the large bed and morosely examining the wet and tearstained front of his shirt. _Ugh!_ He would need a change of clothes as soon as they got home. _Well, better said, if…._ "How do we know he will come? If anything, he's probably lurking somewhere in the ballroom," he asked warily. Ciel had no idea where their demonic master was at the moment or what the hell he was actually planning, but his habit of always keeping everyone in the dark about what was going on was really bothersome.

"Fret not, boys, we won't be spared the fun. He's close, I can feel it…" Espiritus replied, rubbing her forehead, and Will froze in place, throwing a terrified glance at the closed door. "Now, from the series 'look cool and composed, even if you're anything but'…" she snickered, and Ciel though he caught a vague hint of bitterness in her voice.

'_You know master's made her 'drink' that boy's memories, don't you? I think they're hurting her…' _There was a lot of tension suddenly, pressing down upon the small room, and the earl found himself wondering (and dreading) whether the minion, who was never giving out any emotion, had somehow fallen under the influence of Trancy's memories. After all, his arch enemy had died loving Claude, and apparently because of it, for that matter. That being the case, would Alois' spirit have cowered in grief rather than sought revenge? Trancy had been cruel and perverted in life, but weak too, so would he have dared to strike his demon lover? _Can you strike down someone you love, even if they've hurt you, even if they've shattered you to pieces? _

A soft but firm knock on the door interrupted the boy's train of thought and his head shot up in alarm. Small hands gripped the duvet he sat upon on both sides and he shuddered. Es stood up slowly and motioned for him and Will to creep behind the double door and she stepped closer, pressing on the knob only after the second round of knocks.

"Yes?" the blonde asked suavely and shyly though the barely cracked door.

"I was hoping to see you again tonight, at the party, my little butterfly… What were you doing locked up in here, all by yourself?" the demon on the other side of the door drawled, trying to open it a little more, but 'Alois' would not budge.

"And who says I'm here all by myself, sir?" the minion retorted with a slight scowl, casting a glance behind her shoulder, as if it were someone waiting for her, and someone impatient, for that matter.

"It doesn't matter"

The blonde's wrist was suddenly gripped and Faustus pulled the boy out through the cracked door, slamming it shut behind him. "Like I said before, I would very much like to know more about you, little butterfly. You see, there are many unanswered questions as to how you came to be…"

"Let go of me, sir! Let go at once or I will call my master!"

"I will not. As for this master of yours, I believe that he does not keep such a close watch on his property as you'd have me think. In fact, I think he's left you all alone, otherwise you wouldn't have opened the door to me…"

"By no means have I opened the door _to you_!"

"Hiding something behind our back, are we? Come closer, don't be shy, let me see what it is"

A muffled thud followed by a surprised yelp indicated to Ciel and Will that Faustus had found out what 'Alois' was hiding behind his back. It was as good a signal as any and both of them darted outside after a bit of struggle with the stuck door, armed with the iron bars they were now familiar with – plain looking but awfully effective if needed. Faustus had now stepped away from the blonde, with somewhat of a consternated frown, while an ugly gash ran along his pale, but otherwise perfect cheek. The cane had contained a thin, long blade, which was now held point blank at his chest by the blonde.

Not to lose the momentum of their outburst as well as the advantage of surprise, the other two servants lunged forward at him, bars at the ready, only to face utter defeat. They were both rejected by a brusque movement of Faustus' arm and sent flying in different directions. Ciel's forehead collided quite painfully with a large ornamental clay vessel, before he collapsed almost unconscious among the shards.

"Well… the little butterfly stings, how unexpected!" the demon observed with a tone of genuine interest, before his tongue darted out to lick a sliding droplet of his own blood, golden eyes trained on his prey and completely oblivious of the other two opponents whom he had so easily disposed of. "But you know, I could sting you too in return, should you continue to be naughty, my sweet lord…"

'Trancy' snorted. "Oh? And what will you do, sir? Trap me like a spider in your web and suck me dry of contents? Or maybe… cut my throat?"

Faustus flinched, almost visibly, and his expression altered to one of hardly concealed surprise at the blonde's words. But he remained still, just like a predator carefully pondering his next move.

"I won't die if you do that, not this time. It will hurt a bit, but I already know pain"

The boy's wrist was suddenly captured again and he was pulled forward, his body pressed flush against the taller demon's broad chest, as golden orbs bore into his pale blue ones, attempting to decipher the truth lying beneath whatever surface was put up against him. "Could it be… really you, _your highness_?" The long fingers wrought themselves roughly into the silky blonde strands, and Faustus buried his nose in them, inhaling deeply the scent of his former contractor.

"Stop it already! I don't want…" the blonde's eyes were glistening with tears as he struggled to pull away, "How could you, _Claude_?"

Faustus nearly gasped in surprise at the faintly murmured question, almost in the same time as a dark clad figure suddenly loomed in the abandoned doorway. "Hey! What do you think you're doing with my servant?! Release him at once!"

The spider demon's gaze shifted from the boy he was still roughly holding in his grip to the mysterious newcomer with evident displeasure. "Sir, I know nothing of you, but I would like to make you an offer for your fine servant. I would like to buy him from you," he offered firmly. "And I strongly advise you to take my offer if you don't want trouble…"

"Absolutely not." The tall hooded stranger shook his head to emphasize his reply, and his minion understood the signal. The blade which 'Alois' was still holding was abruptly driven through the other demon's chest, and pushed all the way to the hilt. Yet the spider demon still did not let go of his wrist, oblivious of the blood now dripping down onto both their hands. Will, who had collected himself from the floor in the meantime, lunged forward and slammed his bar into the skull of the slightly cowering Faustus, bringing him to his knees.

Sebastian was advancing determinedly towards his weakened prey, the pendant hidden from view inside his balled fist, when a sudden shriek made him stop dead in his tracks. "My love! What is happening here?!" He lifted his gaze to see Lady Ophelia running towards him, worry plastered all over her face.

"It's nothing my love, fear not. Just a minor disagreement…" the crow demon hurried to soothe her, but it was too late – she had already clung to his arm as if her life depended on it. "This gentleman here was trying to have his way with my servant, and later pretended he was willing to buy him from me. Normally, since I've been insulted and even threatened, I had to take some measures-"

"Oh," she sighed, "just what kind of prank were you trying to pull this time, my poor little fool? Such a situation requires a proper settlement between gentlemen! A public confrontation!"

"Wha-"

"Indeed, sir," Faustus cut in, stumbling up to his feet," you seem to feel very brave having your servants ambush me while I am alone and unarmed, which is, well… quite cowardly in fact," he smirked disdainfully. "I'd like to see you go all out somewhere in the open, where no dirty tricks can be pulled from one's sleeve"

"I know! A public game of chess!" lady Ophelia exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement. "Please, my love!" she said, gripping Sebastian's arm again, even tighter this time. "It would be so much fun! And I'm sure that my father would enjoy it too, it would surely ease up his sour mood! Don't you think?"

"Dearest, a game of chess is very… ah… complicated…" the demon tried, still taken aback by how bad things had turned literally in the blink of an eye, and only because of the wretched woman currently at his side.

Faustus snorted, elegantly pressing a handkerchief to his bloodied face. "If it's too much of a challenge for one such as yourself, maybe we should-"

"It's not too _much of a challenge_!" Sebastian spat through gritted teeth.

_**To be continued**_


	14. His true form, revealed

**CHAPTER 14 **

A/N – Wheheee, over 60 reviews already! I am sooo happy, therefore I'll pour in some more dark 'shtuff' for you guys... Enjoy!

* * *

"Master, I'm afraid that you shall have to embody yourself in a far less attractive form from now on. Your suitors are becoming increasingly troublesome," Espiritus felt the need to point to the already fuming demon.

Sebastian was slumped down over his small desk, long fingers drumming impatiently onto the worn wood as he brooded over his latest misfortune. The chess board once adorning said desk now lay tossed onto the floor further away, the elegant black and white pieces scattered randomly onto the carpet. In the large hearth the fire had died a while before and nobody had bothered to rekindle it, leaving the room sunken into an ever increasing obscurity as night drew nearer.

"That stupid, stupid woman! In the end she has thwarted me in my purpose much more that she was of use!" he spat angrily. "So much for all the effort of solving the problem in an 'elegant' manner! It would have been much simpler to just prowl around and seek to ambush Faustus without all this subtlety! Pftttt! A public chess game she says!"

"Milord, it is true that the Council and the rest of the higher nobility enjoy these games very much. That being said, participation in such a match might bring you their favor in the future," the minion stated, despite the fact that her master couldn't have been any less inclined to see a silver lining in the situation.

"The Council can go to Hell for all I care and you know only too well that no matter what I do they'll never favor me! As for this damned game, I can't think of anything more absurd right now!"

"And I can't think of anything more expensive, master…"

Sebastian scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing in pure exhaustion. "Expensive… ha! I don't think 'expensive' is our biggest problem right now - we can handle expensive. What I doubt we can handle is the degree of difficulty and the lack of means. Where are we supposed to get the sixteen pieces from?" He let out a groan, resting his forehead onto the heels of his palms. "We shall have to resort to the Undertaker again, if he is even up to the task on such short notice, that is!"

The demon snapped his fingers and the chess board was instantly back up onto his desk, the two sets of pieces perfectly aligned in front of each other under his thoughtful gaze.

"The problem is of course that Faustus has four other demons in his household aside from himself. You can image that they are quite a handful and there is no doubt that he will use them all in the game, now that he's recognized me thanks to Ophelia's idiocy. Any hope of him underestimating us is lost, so we can presume that he will go all out this time. We are outnumbered"

Picking up the white king, the minion flicked her long sharp nail over the piece's head thoughtfully. "Always outnumbered, aren't we, master? But perhaps not outsmarted… It didn't give me the impression that Claude Faustus is particularly bright, you know? Otherwise we couldn't have fooled him into thinking that Trancy's soul has been somehow mysteriously brought back, even after it had been reaped. And if he isn't very bright, maybe he will prove reckless too, especially because he has so many demon servants"

The demon ran a thumb over his lower lip, weighing the possibility of the spider ending up stumbling onto his own feet, precisely because he had too many.

"I suppose his king will be of no importance, but Hannah Anafellows will surely be the queen. Then he and one of the triplets will probably play knights and the other two… bishops maybe? Most likely. His other pieces are already insignificant-"

"You are wrong, milord. He will have to be the king himself, otherwise in theory he could end up dead before winning or losing the game. Either way, he must be still standing at the end, or at least the last one to fall," the minion interrupted. "And like this, he won't be able to fight too much, if at all"

Somehow, the demon didn't think that was much of a relief. "Even compared to that, we are at a clear disadvantage. You will have to be the king, because you are the stake, meaning you won't be able to fight either. Then, it would make sense for me to be the queen, the most powerful piece, except… that would be slightly ridiculous, so we will need another queen. Will and I will play knights and that's about it. Ciel can be a pawn at most because he is petite like that."

The raven haired young woman seemed to ponder for a while in turn. "It sounds pretty bad, especially the queen problem… but maybe Grell Sutcliffe can be your queen?" she suggested. "At least he can't be killed, I think. And he's already ridiculous…"

Sebastian snorted. "Absolutely not! There's no way I'm involving more of my stupid suitors in this enterprise! They've caused enough harm already, although I honestly can't imagine what could go wrong, or how things could possibly get any worse from this point onwards. I don't see how we could win this game and well… after we lose it will be entirely up to you to kill Faustus. Except that's not very 'doable', is it now?"

"Kill him, milord?"

"That's right. I suppose I can explain to the Council that we got a bit carried away while fulfilling our task…" the demon replied, his gaze narrowing dangerously.

* * *

"_There are quite a few differences between this and a classic chess game, let's see... The pieces are alive, to begin with – that's considered to be the most exciting part, or the most horrific, depends on which side you are, I suppose. As for the actual rules, look here – the white moves first and after the black moves too, normally this pawn here should capture and take out this black pawn from here. In this game however, the white pawn indeed attacks the black pawn according to classic chess rules, but they fight instead of the black pawn being inevitably eliminated. It means that the white pawn might take out the black pawn, or it may be taken out instead. That's the whole excitement about it, really. If one has shit pieces they could lose all of them and the game itself irrespective of their actual chess strategy. How you move your pieces on the board is not influenced by their implicit strength in the game – namely the way in which they can be moved around – although it's common to place one's top players as key pieces on the chess board. But that is not always the case – one can choose to disguise a skillful player as a minor piece, say a pawn, and cause absolute mayhem"_

"_But why would they do that? A pawn cannot move too much on the board, just forward and one square at a time"_

"_Yes, but a defiant pawn will attract attention and besides, if it makes it to the other end of the board it can change into a more powerful piece, that's why the opponent will try not to let that happen. They will send their powerful and more moveable pieces to eliminate the pawn and thus they will lose them all if the pawn can defeat them"_

"_But how can a pawn fight a bishop, for example? Or a knight?"_

"_In the end it is all a matter of skills and weapons. Any piece can have any weapon the owner chooses and all weapons remain hidden from view until an actual confrontation occurs. So that when you challenge a piece you won't have any idea what you're up against unless they've fought another piece before you… and not even then, because a piece can carry several weapons. Things are always surprising in this kind of game, that's why they're so popular here in Underworld. And expensive – it takes a lot of bodies from the body snatchers for the pieces. No one alive and in their right mind actually plays this kind of chess, as you can imagine it is actually a bloodbath..."_

Ciel tugged at the bow around his neck, letting it slip onto the floor as he fumbled with the row of buttons next. At least it was a bit of a relief that they had finally left the Grimme mansion and returned home, but it was still incredibly disappointing how their otherwise perfectly planned scheme had gone down the drain in the blink of an eye, all thanks to Lady Ophelia. And now this public chess game thing… to put it plainly it sounded utterly nightmarish to the young earl. Earlier, as the minion had explained the rules of the game to him and Will, it had become quite clear that it was very unlikely for him – and maybe for the other servants as well - to survive Faustus' challenge. Which meant that probably he had only two weeks left to live.

Dropping the remainder of his garments into a messy heap at the foot of his small cot, he climbed up and pulled his legs to his chest, shuddering with dread. All the confidence he'd previously gained in relation to the Undertaker's 'improvements' while fighting Mr. Krech had been utterly shattered after the brief confrontation with Faustus. The spider demon had sent him and Will flying with a rather lazy sweep of his arm, so how could they possibly fight him and his equally demonic servants? Sebastian had defeated them all before, albeit for a short while, but now, confined by the rules of the game and reduced to a mere chess piece, what could even his master do?

All the thinking and worrying eventually exhausted the petite butler to the point where he simply dropped onto the mattress, barely making the effort to pull the covers over his bare form. He needed to stop thinking and go to sleep, but his precious numbing pills were gone. Ciel had been very naïve to think that the reason for his overly complacent and submissive mood had escaped Sebastian, busy as the demon had been with his mission and not paying too much attention to his butler. Indeed, his master had said nothing about it, but that didn't mean the crow demon was unvigilant. And so the pills had at some point quietly and mysteriously disappeared from the young earl's pocket and he had not dared as much as to ask for an explanation.

The boy sunk his head deeper into the small pillow, wishing the buzzing thoughts away from his head. He tried to focus on nothing else but the sound of his own breathing and it seemed to work. A fuzzy feeling gradually began to spread in his body as he curled up better under the blanket.

Something light and soft brushed against his upturned cheek just as he dozed off, followed by another, this time onto his bare shoulder. Already half asleep, Ciel imagined large, soft snowflakes descending upon him from a starry night sky, enveloping everything in peace and quiet. One of the fluffy items landed right into his palm and his fingers unconsciously closed around the… _feather_?

The boy's mind barely registered this random thought as his thumb brushed along the smooth edge, but then the very sharp end dug into the heel of his palm, causing his eyes to open abruptly. All remnants of the light, pleasant slumber were instantly gone as Ciel gasped and stared wide eyed at the black feathers scattered onto the sheets and on his pillow. Something like a ragged breathing made him suddenly aware that there was someone else in the room, in his bed even, although how could anyone or anything else fit into the small cot next to him was a complete mystery. Yet the telltale black feathers left no room for doubt – his master was there.

"Could it be that you are afraid, my little lord? I thought you said that you love me…"

The young earl squeezed his eyes shut, a cold shudder running down his curled spine. _Why? Why is he doing this to me? _The memory of that distant, accursed dream in which the crow demon had fed on him, had ripped him to shreds came back to torment him once more. _And yet, even then, my heart was throbbing with want for him and only him… _

"Before you can claim to love me, you must see me for what I really am, even if I am horrid and unsightly, even if I am disgusting. And you must be ready to embrace all of this, all of me," the demon added, relentless.

The young earl gulped. Sebastian was testing him – and it was a simple test, really, one which he should have expected from the very beginning when the demon had challenged his statement – and now, faced with it at last, he was almost certain of failure. He did love his master, but he was afraid. And wasn't it a natural thing for someone to be afraid in such circumstances?

"M-master… I know that you're… that you're not human," he whispered, his voice strangled by panic," But it doesn't make any diff-"

"Knowing is one thing, but _seeing_ is another thing entirely. I want you to behold me and to touch me, if you dare," the demon challenged him further.

Taking a deep breath, Ciel willed his horror frozen body to move and shifted slowly, turning until he was facing his master's true form. Keeping his eyes still tightly shut, the boy reached in front of him with trembling fingers. Shy fingertips brushed against soft plumage, performing something between a caress and a fearful exploration. The shape beneath his hand was odd to the touch, or at least Ciel's mind was unable to picture the outline of that unnatural body that was now so close to him. He patted some more, encountering something like a rough patch of scale like skin, ending further down in a curved, very sharp claw. The claw seemed to be nothing short of enormous and the digits were cold, the upper side covered in something a bit clammy, like a putrid bone.

The petite butler couldn't help a moan and a disgusted grimace, yet he forced his hand to continue the sinister exploration, upwards this time. More skin met his fingers, a bit softer this time but cold, corpselike and thinly stretched onto the hard bone underneath, seeming to suck the heat of his own hand. Ciel hesitated and the form shifted, drawing closer, the air stirring with the flutter of a large wing. The boy's hand instinctively withdrew, moving protectively in front of his own face, only to encounter and almost grasp a large, sharp and curved beak.

_Open your eyes! You must, you must! Stop being afraid!_ But Ciel found his eyelids suddenly too heavy, too tightly shut, stubbornly resisting his command, trembling muscles disobeying his wish to relax. The air circulated painfully through his fear constricted lungs as he made great efforts not to move his hand away again, refusing that horrid touch. In the end, the demon was doing what he'd always done, Ciel told himself in a vague attempt at reasoning, using his power to point and poke fun at his human weakness, relishing in the idea of frightening the unfortunate soul within his grasp. But his master had no real intention to hurt him, or he would have done it by now. No, that beak would not pierce him, those claws would not tear at his flesh, they were only meant to be horrible to the eye and to the touch. He had nothing to fear, the boy reassured himself, albeit without much conviction.

Eventually his eyelids fluttered shyly to open, but just then the creature sharing his personal space chose to move even closer, pushing its way into him. The instantaneous and overwhelming repulsion jerked the boy's body backwards and Ciel nearly fell down from his bed, only to be safely caught by a pair of gentle arms and pulled back onto the mattress.

Letting out a gasp, the young earl's eyes opened widely, only to discover Sebastian glancing down at him with a clearly amused expression. His face immediately scrunched into an angry scowl. _Gah! Stupid demon! What the hell, was he bored or something?!_

"Oh, I admit that I might have exaggerated," the demon confessed, seemingly reading his butler's mind. "My true form is not _that_ repulsive, but nevertheless it is something not everyone has the stomach for"

"This only proves that, like I said before, you know nothing about love!" Ciel pointed angrily." It matters not what you truly look like!" He sighed, averting his gaze, because his anger was already melting. "I love you for what you are inside," he murmured softly, burying his face into the front of his master's shirt.

Sebastian laughed softly, still very much amused. "While it may not always be the case, with me the way I really look like happens to be quite an accurate reflection of what I truly am inside. I daresay _that_ is even worse!"

"You just want to point my weakness and break my pride, I know it… But there is no need to do that, master"

The long, black nailed fingers brushed gently against the boy's forehead, pushing away a rebellious strand. "Actually, I want you to get accustomed with the idea that sooner or later I will feed on you, my little lord…"

_**To be continued**_


	15. His pieces, assembled

**CHAPTER 15 **

Ciel glanced past the dirty window carriage at the gloomy landscape unfolding down the road, briefly wondering if any sort of leaves were ever to grow onto the barren, blackened branches of trees. The answer was probably no. Other than Lady Ophelia and her parties, which seemed oddly misplaced in Underworld, nothing else around here seemed to be able to bear the slightest touch of color. Everything was either black or ashen grey or, in rare circumstances, deathly pale.

The young earl glanced down at his outfit – he'd been given some new clothes, the provenience of which he hadn't bothered to inquire about this time. They were a mixture of different shades of black, that is to say some of the fabrics were more faded than others, but all in all faithful to the general fashion trend. This really wasn't the time or place to be thinking about one's clothes, but Ciel would have thought about anything, even pink ribbons and flowered hats, just to take his mind off what lay ahead. The very fact that Sebastian had chosen to ride in the carriage with them today instead of travelling on his own as he usually did was a bad sign, he reckoned. He'd assumed that the demon had something of importance to say to his servants on the way to the Undertaker's, as they were going to choose the 'pieces' for the upcoming game, but his master just sat there silent, sulking even.

"So what will be our color, master?" Ciel eventually asked, just for the sake of breaking the uncomfortable silence. Of course, the color hardly mattered in the game, past the first move, but Will's gaze shot up suddenly, throwing a rapid glance in his direction before setting onto his master, awaiting an answer.

Sebastian cleared his throat, abruptly as he had been pulled out of his own brooding. "Well, Faustus is the one considered to have been insulted in this dispute, therefore he will be allowed the first move. Consequently, his household will play as the white pieces and we will be the black ones"

"So if nothing else, at least he and his party will look ridiculous," Es pointed with a wry smile.

* * *

"There it is, the Undertaker's, milord!" Mr. Jones announced grumpily, as the carriage stopped with a surprising and unpleasant jolt, which almost caused the young earl to slip from his seat and drop to his knees. _Damn it! They could have at least stolen a better carriage!_

The small group descended into the muddy street and all four of them quickly made their way inside the mortician's parlor and out of the icy cold drizzle pouring over the town. Mr. Jones was left outside, perched onto the high front seat, muttering swears from under his worn leather cloak.

The parlor was deserted, aside from the randomly scattered, dust covered coffins, which made the place appeared cramped and suffocating. A stale heat floated about, in contrast with the cold weather outside, but it was of little comfort. The petite butler instinctively wrapped the damp cloak tighter around himself, while Will fretted impatiently.

"Where the hell do you suppose he is now?" the curly haired young man murmured in a low voice, scrunching his nose. "He knew we were coming today! Why can't we just get this over with already?"

A bit further away, Sebastian leaned onto the counter with a bored sigh and shook the small bell again. "Perhaps you should try stealing something, I'm sure that would make him pop out instantly," the demon observed, humorless.

"Over here!" a voice eventually resounded from somewhere in the back of the parlor. "Don't be shy, do come in!" the voice added, followed by an irritating cackle.

Sebastian stepped around the counter and pushed aside the ragged curtain separating the parlor from the back room. He walked in, followed by his petite butler and Es, whose arm the other servant was gripping with uncharacteristic nervousness. Ciel had heard Will secretly confessing to the minion that the prospect of seeing more of the body snatcher's _puppets_ was rather daunting for him. Their butler was rather cute and well kept, he thought, but he knew it to be a rare exception among this sort of 'merchandise'. Most of the time, the _dead things _were meant to be sold for lower labors and they looked absolutely horrid. As such – Will had reckoned and Espiritus had agreed – the 'pieces' the Undertaker would sell them for a chess game where they were meant for slaughter were bound to be his worst stock, stuff he couldn't sell for better purposes. And Will was openly terrified by the idea of having to see them up close.

"They will surely look bad but they won't come cheap – seeing how they must fight, certain improvements were required and I expect those to be quite costly," she said, dragging both boys by their hand so their gaze wouldn't linger too much on the sinister instruments on display in the back room.

As the Undertaker's voice called them further away in the depths of his settlement, they passed from the laboratory into a narrow corridor, which eventually ended with a small door. It led somewhere out in the open, judging by the draft sweeping over the small group as the demon ahead pushed it.

"Oh my…" Sebastian said dryly, stepping out into a large backyard. It was surrounded by more cramped wooden boxes and cheaper coffins and the bare, unpaved ground had turned to mud under the stubborn drizzle. There stood the Undertaker, next to the twelve pieces he'd aligned in a single long row, water dripping down from the brims of his hat.

"Welcome, milord!" he addressed Sebastian with a sheepish grin, "As you can see, I have already brought what you asked, so that we can begin the preparations right away!"

Ciel's gaze swept rapidly over the 'pieces' – they were unsightly to say the least. The _undead_ corpses were covered in ragged clothing, now damp from the rain, the holes displaying bits of grayish skin and almost putrid flesh. Their eyes were closed, heavy eyelids shadowing the dirty faces, but the young earl did not need to see their eyes open to guess the empty, lifeless stare they would bear when put to work. It was mostly young people the body snatcher had dug out God knew where from, even a few boys that would very likely make the pawns of the sinister ensemble.

Taking a deep breath and pushing his chest forward, Will pushed past the butler and walked forward – probably before all courage left him or something. With a blank face, the olive-skinned servant proceeded to inspect the selection. Ciel thought the other servant held himself rather well, but once he reached the far end of the row the young man's expression suddenly changed.

"Oi! This one doesn't have a face!" he exclaimed, trying his best to sound merely displeased and not horrorstruck as he truly was.

"He doesn't need one, hehehehe…" the Undertaker chuckled, "You silly boy, they will all be wearing armor anyway and that one's not very strong to begin with"

None of them looked particularly strong to begin with, the young earl thought, that was why they needed improvements. But then again, he for one had serious doubts about these 'improvements' after the recent developments. Ciel had no faith whatsoever that these putrid carcasses, even with all the magic tricks the reaper would have worked onto their bodies, would have been able to withstand Claude Faustus and his demonic servants. Most likely, the Spider's household would make short work in effortlessly ripping them to shreds.

"My master would like to see some action, Undertaker. Give us a demonstration of what they can do," Espiritus said, while said master kept away for the moment. Ciel failed to comprehend entirely the demon's 'sense of aesthetics', but it was clear that Sebastian was disgusted of what he was seeing.

"But of course, of course!"

The mortician rubbed his hands under the long sleeves and made a calling sign. Another 'puppet' stepped into view and pulled forward a straw stuffed dummy, quite tall and solid, covered in a heavy, rusty armor from head to toe. Wiggling two of his long nailed fingers, the Undertaker called one of the 'pieces' and one of the smaller boys Ciel had spotted moved out from the line. His eyes of a dull brown were now open, with a haunting stare, but his step was steady, unfaltering. The boy stopped in front of the dummy, awaiting further instructions from his master.

"A pawn, this little one," the silver haired reaper stated, a bit thoughtful. "As for the weapons, a sword would be too much for him, I reckon… I'd rather choose a pair of axes." He made another calling gesture and the serving puppet brought the two weapons. The shinigami weighted one in his hand, the sharp blade gleaming in the pale light. "Yes, this should definitely do," he appreciated, handing them to the boy.

The tiny hands spun the two long-handled battle axes with unexpected ease, chopping off the dummy's head in the blink of an eye. Ciel almost didn't realize what had happened until he heard the splash and clatter of the helmed head rolling down into the mud.

"All is well, eh?" the Undertaker asked, although it sounded more like a statement.

The demon however seemed unimpressed with the display of the puppet's skill. "Indeed, but I daresay all is well because the dummy doesn't fight back. You know that won't be the case in the actual game, don't you?"

"Pfft, seen plenty of games, I did," the mortician replied with a huff, picking up the fallen head and attaching it back to the body with the help of some mysterious device he'd pulled from his sleeve. "What should we give this one then? A long sword, fit for a king, eheheh!"

Armed with said sword, the dummy moved forward briskly and swung, aiming for the boy's head. One of the axes instantly rose to block the blow, while the other swiftly swung in turn and severed the opponent's right arm, removing the threat. Once that done, the tiny boy took a step back and remained motionless, arms hanging limply to his sides, but still gripping the two axes.

"Well, I suppose that will do," Sebastian agreed without much enthusiasm. "Now let's see how the ensemble would look like at a first glance, shall we?"

The two rows were then made, in the same formation as the pieces would take on the chessboard. Es took the king's place, standing rather awkwardly next to a blonde puppet girl who was meant to be the queen. The bishops on each side were two solid ones, flanked by Will and the demon himself as knights, while two more sturdy puppets made the rooks. In front of them there was the row of eight shorter pawns, with Ciel occupying the last position to the left.

"I don't know what to say about the queen…" Sebastian said." She looks rather frail to me." The demon left his place in the row and walked to the blonde puppet, turning her so that she was facing him. "She may be pretty enough for the audience but when it comes to fighting… I wouldn't use her as the strongest piece. Don't you have any other women we can look at?"

"If you ask me, this whim of the public that the queen should actually be a woman is absurd, considering the armor and all," the Undertaker replied, drawing closer. "But no, currently I don't have-"

"Oh Bassy, let _me _be your queen! Now and forever!"

Grell darted out of the house, pushing the other reaper out of his way and lunged forward, attempting to get a hold of Sebastian's arm. But the demon dodged him almost effortlessly, such that the redhead very nearly fell onto his face.

"Hey! What the hell did you just call my master?!" Espiritus shouted, the tip of her cane shooting forward to poke the reaper's cheek.

Grell gasped, unpleasantly surprised. "Bassy, who is _she_?" he cried, sounding deeply hurt at the discovery. "No matter, we'll settle this right away!" the reaper hissed, sharp teeth gritted, as he turned and charged, this time to claw at the minion's face. His attempt was thwarted by the Undertaker, who reached and grabbed the collar of the other shinigami's coat, firmly holding his associate in place.

"Now, now, ladies! My humble shop is hardly the place for a melee, business is bad enough as it is…"

"Honestly Sebastian, can't you see I'm far more fit to fight for your heart than this ridiculous little girl?" Grell pleaded, hands pressed together on his chest as the demon pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"Now, then, Mr. Sutcliffe … this is not a 'fight for my heart'. It's a public chess game, bound to end quite badly. And you should expect my servants to be protective of me…" he said with a dramatic air.

"Whatever it may be, I will fight for you, sweet Bassy! You know I'd do anything for you!" the redhead insisted, this time successfully clutching the lapels of the demon's elegant overcoat.

Sebastian sighed, throwing a rapid glance towards his minion. She nodded approvingly. "Very well, if you really wish to bring this upon yourself… But bear in mind that I will hold you to your word-"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, sweet Bassy!" the reaper squealed excited. "Take that, pug face!" he snorted, turning towards Es, while still clinging to the demon.

"Actually, _I_ am the king, so you can drop dead, you gender confused imbecile!"

* * *

"Now then, the ensemble being established, I think we should decide upon the matter of the weapons next," said the Undertaker, signaling again to his serving puppet. A large panel containing all sorts of weapons was brought out into the yard. In contrast with the fighters, these looked to be in a surprisingly good state. The handles were polished and solid and the freshly sharpened blades gleamed, without a single drop of rust.

"While these fine swords may be the most appealing to you and easiest to handle, we must not forget that the audience will be interested in the entertainment. They will want to see some frightening and gruesome instruments, rather than classy, elegant pieces of work," he pointed.

'_Any piece can have any weapon the owner chooses and all weapons remain hidden from view until an actual confrontation occurs. So that when you challenge a piece you won't have any idea what you're up against unless they've fought another piece before you… and not even then, because a piece can carry several weapons' _the young earl remembered. Perhaps it meant that among other things he would be given a sword as well? He had trained in sword fighting at some point, he had even defeated Trancy in a real duel. Well, not that Trancy was anything like the demons they would be facing in the game but still, it was something he was remotely used to. As a result of the 'improvements' he'd undergone, the iron bars had proven quite easy to handle as well, but seeing the puppet boy maneuvering the two battle axes with such speed and dexterity had further deepened Ciel's doubts about his own abilities.

"The king and queen shall bear long swords and shields, that is certain… and maybe a few additional surprise items, I don't think Grell's chainsaw would be against the rules," Sebastian opined. "I'd say halberds and spears for the bishops, swords and maces for the knights and long-handled axes and hammers for the rooks. The pawns can have an assortment of smaller weapons fit to their size, short swords to begin with…"

The Undertaker scratched his head under the wet hat and chuckled. "You are truly inspired, milord. I shall do as you say. Now, I suppose you, Grell and your more experienced servants will hardly be needing practice with these items, but I suggest you do give them a try before the actual game, just to 'get a feel'… But now let's see who _does_ need practice"

The young earl suddenly realised that everyone was looking at him, even the _dead things_ had turned their empty eyed faces in his direction. _Damn the Undertaker, he's done that one on purpose to annoy me!_ Indeed, the silver haired shinigami was never short of ideas when he wanted to be annoying and he always wanted to.

"Come, come, little lord," the mortician beckoned him closer. "Why don't you try these?" he offered, confronting the petite butler with the two battle axes the other boy had so deftly used before. Ciel's stomach tightened as he looked up at the armored dummy, dripping with water. It also didn't help that the axes were quite heavy and the handles slippery from the rain.

"Come on, swing!" the reaper prompted him. "Don't be shy, I promise that no one will laugh at you…" A rather contradictory statement since he was laughing already.

The young earl stared at his straw stuffed opponent, not knowing what to do, where to hit. The puppet boy had aimed for the head, but the head seemed suddenly somewhere very high up, out of his reach. _What the hell?_ Taking a deep breath, he hurled both blades into the dummy's breast plated chest. It didn't budge.

"Ah… quite an uninspired blow, I daresay, eheheheh"

Sebastian tsked. "Undertaker, please! This is a serious matter," he said in slight irritation. "Ciel, put some more heart into it, will you?"

Gritting his teeth, the butler gathered all his strength and swung the weapons in a sweeping motion aimed to at least knock the dummy off its stand. And it did… almost. After a bit of wobbling, the damned thing returned to its initial position.

"My humble apologies. As things are now, I think this one will need some _further_ improvements…"

Already envisaging the torments he would have to go through yet again, Ciel buried his face in his hands and let out a silent sob.

_**To be continued**_


	16. His game, beginning

**CHAPTER 16**

A/N – While it may not sound like such a big achievement to the rest of the world, well… I have finally put cover pictures to most of my stories. So yeah, I'm pretty happy about that.

Warning – this chapter contains graphic violence

* * *

Ciel had had a nightmarish week, to say the least. His body ached from all the hard training Grell had made him go through, aside from the painful 'improvements' he had undergone once more. But honestly, he couldn't tell whether his days – when he had trained and been put to work around the Undertaker's shop - had been worse than the nights – when he'd been put to sleep in a coffin. It had been a dreadful experience, lying in that cramped wooden box and the Undertaker had insisted on closing the lid, seeing how there were no covers.

The good thing was, now he was able to swing weapons just as swiftly and forcefully as the other puppets the Undertaker had prepared for the game. It was little relief though, thinking that - as Espiritus had made it quite clear - the game was undoubtedly going to be a bloodbath. Despite being an experienced chess player himself, the young earl had done his best to banish all thoughts of the game from his mind, but as the event drew near he was finding it harder and harder. The scary thing was, he wasn't going to be playing chess himself, he wasn't going to be the one making the moves. No, he was merely a piece on the board, to be ordered and disposed of by other hands, and even if the boy did not doubt his demon master's abilities when it came to playing – even this sinister form of chess – he knew that some pieces (in fact most pieces) were meant to be lost, even on the victor's side.

The petite butler had no idea what Sebastian was doing, back at the estate. How were they preparing for the upcoming confrontation? Grell for one was clearly excited by the prospect of being Sebastian's 'queen'. _What an idiot!_ But then again he was a reaper and like Es had said, most likely he could not die. The Undertaker on the other hand seemed slightly tensed beneath his usual obnoxious grin. Perhaps he was worried about his daughter?

"A spectacular crap, this thing will be…" the silver haired shinigami said, inspecting the weapons one more time.

The young earl let out a light snort. "You can't mean that, not as far as you're concerned, Undertaker. You can't deny that such games are a great benefit to your business"

"Now, now, little earl," the reaper replied, running his thumb over edge of a battle axe, as if to test its sharpness. "You've had your own business at some point, so tell me – if you had sold nothing but broken toys, at the cheapest price mind you, while the good, pretty ones remained unasked for, would that have been good business to you? I think not"

Ciel frowned. "What, with all the work you've put into them? You can't say _these_ come cheap!"

"When it's the lords and their game, you can't ask for more than they're willing to pay you, especially when it comes to things they won't be using twice, that is… "

And that was about all the conversation the young earl got before the Undertaker walked away to make the last preparations before departing for the Square and he was left alone once more, prey to his own gloomy thoughts.

* * *

"So this is it, then…" Sebastian concluded, gaze sweeping emotionlessly over the Square. The place where nobles' disputes took place was shaped like a large chessboard, each square impeccably carved in black and white marble and outlined by silvery edges. The marble had been washed and scrubbed clean, spotless even, looking as if it were new, no blood ever having been spilt upon it. The chessboard was surrounded by amphitheatrically disposed seats, placed at a safe distance from the actual battle place. There were two high chairs opposing each other, from where the competing adversaries would normally give their orders and ultimately enjoy victory or taste utter defeat. But on this day they would remain empty, the demon thought, as both he and Faustus – for he had no doubt his opponent was going to do the same – would be playing as pieces. A display of bad taste, the Council and most of the audience was going to conclude, although none of them could deny they were present mostly to enjoy the slaughter. And the demon had no interest on their opinion – he was here to do a job, not to make a good impression.

"We have never failed, milord," Espiritus said. "Claude Faustus may win this chess game, but he will lose his freedom, if not his life, just as the Council wishes"

The demon sighed. "Well, I can but hope that 'dear' Ophelia will not get in the way again somehow. Oh, why must one have suitors, I wonder? They're such a pain! And you can imagine Grell Sutcliffe – lest he perishes fighting, which I doubt – he will demand some sort of compensation for his effort"

"And here I thought it was his utmost pleasure to help… But you can always promise such compensation and then give him nothing," the minion replied, watching as the seats were gradually filling with spectators. "Or find a way to twist his words and give him something else"

"I see… well, that's the kind of thing a woman would do"

* * *

"This is going to be bad…" Will stated, adjusting the black leather breastplate over his shirt and proceeding to struggle with the arm pieces. The Undertaker's puppets had already been brought 'backstage', fully equipped and armed, looking even more dreadful now. Except for the one without a face, a rook which was wearing a closed helmet, the others' eyes had been outlined with black charcoal for a more sinister effect, against the grayish hue of their skin. The pitch black leather armors had been tarred to enhance their resistance and it made them look like an army from Hell.

"Oh, you think?" the minion replied ironically, swinging the long sword back and forth. They were wearing the same 'makeup' as the rest of the pieces, and 'Alois'' pale blue eyes stuck out strangely against the black smudge.

"There he comes, that bastard!" the other servant pointed, motioning with his head towards the arched entrance. Faustus walked in, wearing what was undoubtedly a king's attire, followed by his pieces. Right next to him was Hannah Anafellows, donning an elaborate white gown fit for a queen, followed by the triplets, clad in equally impressive pristine garments. Behind them came the rest of their pieces, white steel armors and weapons gleaming. There was something positively disturbing in seeing Claude Faustus dressed in white, Ciel thought.

"What do you know, they all look so pretty that you almost couldn't guess what they really are…" the Undertaker chuckled.

"What the hell is with their pieces?" Espiritus suddenly asked, drawing everyone's attention to those walking behind the five demons. At a closer look there was something awkward about their movements and a strange noise was coming from their direction, like a clatter which couldn't have been caused by their armors and weapons alone.

"Bah! They are made of clockwork, those damned things," the silver haired shinigami replied, with a hint of disgust. "I suppose they must have cost a fortune!"

The young earl's eyes widened in horror. "You mean they're what, like… automatons? But then… how are we going to kill them?"

"We don't necessarily have to 'kill' them, just shove them off the chessboard. Once they're out, they're out," the demon replied."Now I'm not saying _that_ would be simple, but-"

"Oh Bassy, but it's not that hard either!" Grell cut in, gesturing with his chainsaw towards the clockwork figures. "Look, their legs seem rather fragile and weak at the joints. Just go for the legs and getting rid of them won't be a problem"

_Sure, if they don't chop us to pieces first… _Ciel examined the automatons, but there was nothing easy to handle about them as far as he could see. Their weapons – a bizarre and frightening variety of short swords, maces, spears, axes and whatnot – looked razor sharp and the boy had no doubt that the creatures probably wielded them with great strength and speed. And even if there was a way of dealing with the creatures, they were hardly the biggest problem…

The petite butler could tell that the arrival of the strange white pieces had made pretty much everyone tense, except for the Undertaker, who was humming a stupidly joyful tune while making some last minute adjustments. Sebastian and his minion were talking quietly, under the unreadable gaze of Faustus, who was watching them intently. The spider demon bore the same tedious expression as always on his pale features, the golden eyes void of any emotion. Did he still believe that the blonde was really Alois Trancy? _He must still believe it, otherwise he wouldn't be here, would he?_ Ciel nearly jumped when he felt the Undertaker's cold fingers gently touching his earlobe.

"Now, there is no need to worry, little earl," he said, working on the skull shaped earring bud, "Like this you won't be feeling any pain at all – I think that's the most important thing"

The young earl snorted, his face twisted into a scowl. "Wouldn't it be more important to… I don't know, make us win the game, for example?"

The silver haired shinigami gasped dramatically. "Ah, about that, I nearly forgot… "He chuckled sheepishly, adjusting the boy's belt, which held the magically concealed weapons. Ciel only had a short sword and two battle axes, but they were heavy enough as it was, pulling at his hips. "If everything else fails… and I have a feeling it will at some point, use this. Don't know how well it will work with you, little lord, but it will at least make an impression, I daresay"

"Undertaker, no offence but this is hardly a good moment to be cracking any stupid jokes," the petite butler pointed, his frown deepening. "What the hell is this _stick_?"

The shinigami tsked. "When the time comes, but not a moment sooner, you turn the handle like this and it will transform. And I'll have you know that this is from my private collection, you silly boy, so you would do well not to ruin it, if possible!"

* * *

At the given signal, both sets of pieces stepped forward from the opposite sides and filled their respective places on the chessboard, while the audience cheered. Lady Ophelia was in the front row, seated next to her ill-humored father, but that didn't seem to make her exercise any sort of restraint, as her pink embroidered handkerchief was frantically waved in the direction of her adored one. Sebastian smiled briefly in return, then grimaced and let out a groan, checking to see whether Grell had noticed anything. Fortunately, the red haired reaper seemed oblivious of what was going on, excited as he was of being able to help his 'sweet Bassy'.

"You are making a mistake, _your Highness_," Faustus spoke suddenly, addressing the blonde black king, his voice covering the crowd's roar. "You are in a bad entourage and that demon means you no good. I'm sure you realize that much…"

"Could it be that he doesn't want to fight after all? I don't understand…" Ciel heard Sebastian grumble under his breath, behind him.

'Alois' snorted, weighting the sword impatiently, "No demon can mean me any good, that much I am sure of! But at least I won't be making the same mistake twice!"

The spider demon's features remained blank_,_ as the answer did not seem to take him by surprise. With a single, slow nod, Faustus stepped back onto his place without another word, gripping his own weapon. _Well, if there was any chance not to fight today, it surely went down the drain… Count on Sebastian's servants to always pick a fight! _A moment later, the Master of Ceremonies gave the signal for the game to begin.

"WHITE MOVES FIRST!" he shouted.

On his white square on the far left side, Ciel froze, all the muscles in his petite body locked in horror. He gulped, gasping for air, his eyes fixed on the automaton four squares away in front of him. His stomach clenched in a thousand knots as his gaze trailed onto the creature's jagged sword, each tooth sharp as a needle. It had no eyes or nose apparently, all that was visible from under the shiny helmet was a rather large mouth, slightly parted, revealing two sets of small but also very sharp metal teeth. But the spider demon chose a more central pawn for his first move and the game began.

"Pawn to D5!" Sebastian shouted, one of the smaller puppets making its way across the board to the indicated place. It was a short fight. The boy pulled out a short spear and rapidly thrust it in his opponent's guts, but unfortunately the weapon only got caught in the creature's inner cogwheels, without doing much damage. The automaton raised its own blade as it was accidentally pulled forward and struck with full force, the boy's body collapsing in a pool of blood a moment later, staining the white marble.

"Ugh…" Sebastian groaned, while the young earl though he was going to faint at the sight and, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to move at all, couldn't help covering his mouth with his hand. "Don't you crap out now, you fucking idiot!" Ciel snapped out of it as he heard the murmured swear, but it wasn't addressed to him.

"Will, knight to C6!" Sebastian commanded.

Taking a deep breath, the olive skinned young man pushed aside the puppets blocking his way and walked determinedly to the said square. As soon as he set foot on it, the automaton turned swiftly, with a creaking sound, blade raised for attack. But before he could strike, Will swung his enormous mace and the piece of machinery was sent flying across the chessboard, hitting another two white pawns on the right side, so that all three of them tumbled off the edge, in the audience's wild cheers. Ciel gasped in shock, but apparently such a move wasn't considered to be against the rules.

"Already fighting dirty, aren't you, Michaelis…" Faustus observed dryly, in reply to the victorious knight's wide grin. "Pawn to G3!" he shouted, the automaton on Ciel's diagonal advancing one square. The young earl realised that the spider was clearing the way for his left side bishop – one of the triplets. On the next move, the demon was now free to threaten Will's position directly. Of course, Faustus was going after the most powerful pieces, he did not care about the rest. And the automatons were just for show and to distract attention, Ciel realised.

"Ciel, pawn to H6," his master ordered and the petite butler stepped one square forward, focused on the automaton which was probably going to attack him eventually. This one, equally featureless, was holding a pair of long knives crossed onto his chest. The young earl took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

"Timber, bishop to F2!" Faustus called, just as the boy had anticipated. If Will didn't move from where he was, the demon would go after him.

"Grell, queen to D5!" Sebastian offered in turn, the redhead sliding gracefully to block Timber's way. Ciel looked at Faustus, wondering if he was tempted to move his queen in turn, challenging the reaper. But, after a rapid glance towards Hanna, the spider decided to keep the fight from getting too close for now.

"Timber, bishop to D5!" he commanded and the audience roared with excitement. The purple haired demon lunged forward, his feet barely touching the white squares as he advanced. According to the rules and unlike the clockwork creatures, his weapons were concealed. Only when he was one square away from the black queen did he draw a long-handled halberd and struck. The blade clashed against the reaper's chainsaw with a sinister screeching sound, partially covered by the crowd's roar. He pushed forward with all his strength, but Grell wasn't budging. With a cackle, the redhead suddenly let the blade glide and swiftly cut the weapon's handle, then drove the infernal blade right through the demon's torso. Timber collapsed to the ground soundlessly, in a splatter of blood and a mess of cinematic records.

"Canterbury, knight to C3!" Faustus shouted, his teeth almost inconspicuously gritted. But Grell wouldn't stay threatened for long.

"Grell, queen to H1!" Sebastian made his move, the reaper disposing of the white clockwork rook in one blow. Now Grell was right next to knight Thompson and next was the white queen, while the automatons around stood helpless, unable to move backwards.

"Pawn to G4!" the spider said calmly, much to everyone's surprise, doing nothing to defend his more valuable pieces. Except… this was more than a chess game and Ciel realised that now Faustus was going after him.

"It seems he's not giving you any credit," Sebastian observed, "Now then, let him have it his way this time. Ciel, pawn to H5!"

The young earl blinked. _What… now? _

_At least it won't hurt, it won't hurt… _He forced his legs forward, eyeing the opponent's knives, mentally anticipating the moment when they would shoot forward and slash, or thrust. The petite butler knew he had to decide fast and the short sword probably wasn't going to do the trick. Wiping the sweat off his palms on the side of his trousers, he decided for the battle axes, seeing how they weren't far from the edge as it was.

_I'll go for the legs, just as I did with that bastard Krech! _The boy swung with all his strength, the low blow severing one of the creature's legs just as it was about to move and making the other give in as well. The clockwork creature fell, but wasn't defeated. It began crawling forward, propping onto its knives.

"Hit him harder, earl! Sweep the canned bastard off the chessboard!" Grell advised, but his words distracted the boy in the most unfortunate moment. As he lifted up his gaze, the automaton thrust one of its knives just above his hip, nearly throwing him to the ground. His face whitening in horror at what he was seeing – for he felt no pain – Ciel's arms moved with a will of their own, striking again, throwing the automaton across the slippery marble and off the edge, its wicked blade rippling the flesh in its wake. The first droplets of blood hit the white marble under his feet as the young earl dropped to his knees.

_**To be continued**_


	17. His game, ending

**CHAPTER 17 **

A/N – It seems I made a little goof in the previous chapter as to the pieces' position on the chessboard, which I shall rectify for all you chess players out there :) It has occurred in this phrase:

_"Grell, queen to H1!" Sebastian made his move, the reaper disposing of the white clockwork rook in one blow. Now Grell was right next to knight Thompson and next was the white queen, while the automatons around stood helpless, unable to move backwards._

Actually, next to knight Thompson there is an empty square previously occupied by bishop Timber and next to that comes king Faustus, while queen Hannah is positioned to his left.

Warning – this chapter (also) contains graphic violence

* * *

"Ciel, get up, you're alright!" the young earl heard his master's voice, but his gaze was fixed on the blood seeping out of the gash in his armor, leaking in crimson droplets onto the pristine marble of the square beneath his feet. "It's just a scratch, get up!" _Just a scratch, just a scratch… _Fighting the wave of dizziness, Ciel finally stood on shaky legs, only to see that now he was standing directly on Hannah's diagonal and the way was open.

"Bloody hell…" the little butler murmured, white as a sheet. Now that it was white's turn to move, Faustus was going to take him for sure – there was no way in Hell he could fight Hannah Anafellows, the white queen. Sebastian had made a really bad move as far as he was concerned and he wasn't sure that it hadn't been intentional.

But knight Thompson was the only piece standing between Grell and king Faustus, therefore the spider demon thought a swap of places between his king and his queen was a better move than going after the poor pawn.

"Knight to F6!" Sebastian announced, advancing to the respective position.

"Rook to A7!" Faustus attacked, his automaton having the way cleared by Will's blow. The clockwork creature encountered no problem in disposing of the tiny black pawn, who was first methodically chopped to pieces, then swept off the chessboard.

Sebastian's face contorted into a disgusted grimace. "Knight to E4!", he shouted, deciding to allow his lesser pieces to be slaughtered by Faustus' monstrous rook. It was a direct challenge to queen Hannah, who could have come after him, but also to knight Canterbury. If he took Canterbury he would then be able to directly challenge Faustus.

Gritting his teeth, the spider demon swapped places with his queen once more, thwarting his plan. Very well, he would take the demon knight then. "Knight to C3!"

Canterbury turned towards the other demon, preparing, while the crow demon advanced determinedly, his hand already on the handle of his long sword. The purple haired boy was only two squares away from the edge of the chessboard, a good kick could send him flying easily, Sebastian mused. His opponent drew back his white cloak, letting the demon see his previously hidden weapons – a spear and two curve bladed swords. He could choose only one for this fight and he chose the spear. Canterbury threw it as forcefully as he could and it flew well past Sebastian's shoulder, eventually impaling two black pieces, both a pawn and the rook behind Ciel. The crowd was mad with excitement.

"And here I thought _my_ servants were stupid…" the demon observed, jumping graciously and landing a powerful kick onto the white knight's chest, sending him flying off the chessboard.

"Rook to A8!" Faustus shouted, without a moment's hesitation, the black knight only then realising his opponent's strategy, as his own rook was shattered. The spider's rook was going after his king.

"Damn it!" he grumbled, under his breath. "Knight to B5!" He had to turn back and protect his king.

"Oh, good!" Faustus exclaimed. "Hannah, queen to H5!"

Propping himself in the two battle axes, the young earl had been struggling to remain focused and follow the game. But this was it now and he saw Faustus' plan. The white queen would take him now, then Sebastian and then challenge the black king, who had nowhere to run. Or she could choose an easier way through the right, eliminating the pawns and then challenge the black king. _But first, she will kill me…_

Ciel's vision was already blurred from the constant blood loss – the wound was by no means a scratch – he simply knew that he wouldn't be able to go through another fight. Not with the spider's queen. His gaze trailed towards his master, who stood frozen and frowning, undoubtedly he'd seen the enemy's strategy as well.

"Ciel…" Sebastian said softly, almost with a light smile," Kill her"

Hannah was coming, the white gown swirling graciously around her as she moved. The white steel of her long sword gleamed deadly and there was a stony determination upon her beautiful features. She would not show any mercy. _"If everything else fails… and I have a feeling it will at some point, use this. Don't know how well it will work with you, little lord, but it will at least make an impression, I daresay" _Ciel dropped his axes as his right hand slid to his belt almost with a will of its own and gripped the peculiar stick given by the reaper. "Fucking Undertaker, you bloody bastard!" the earl swore with a passion, glancing down at the seemingly useless object. _"When the time comes, but not a moment sooner, you turn the handle like this and it will transform." _He might as well try it, since it was his last stand anyway…

The boy turned the handle just as indicated, barely a moment before the white queen had reached the square next to him. The enormous scythe sprang from the other end, nearly throwing him off balance and causing Hannah to halt in surprise. The demon weighed her sword in her hand, gripping it better as she recovered from the initial awe.

Ciel's head tilted to the side at an odd angle and he looked like he was about to collapse, but gripped the long handle with both hands. Somewhere in the audience, the petite butler heard the reaper chuckle and a muffled, mad laughter erupted from his throat as well. Earl Ciel Phantomhive had nothing left to lose anymore. He raised the weapon and swung just as Hannah came at him, the speed and weight pulling and spinning his whole body in the sweeping motion. The scythe clashed with the demon's sword, sparks flying from the forceful blow as the blades collided.

The boy laughed even harder at the confusion he could read in his opponent's eyes as she pushed forward with all her strength, but to no avail. He suddenly drew the scythe back and swung again, hard. The crowd gasped and screamed as Ciel felt something cold as ice impaling his armor and his shoulder, coming out on the other side through his shoulder blade, shattering the bone. He looked down to see Hannah sword sticking out of his body, while a little further away lay the demon's upper torso, gruesomely severed from the rest of her.

"Bloody hell!" Will exclaimed, white in the face, as the enormous scythe slipped from Ciel's now limp hand. The petite butler managed to pull the opponent's weapon out of his own body and toss it away before collapsing to his knees again, struggling to breathe. _Hell, I haven't died it seems… It means I'm still playing_

"Grell, queen to G1!" Sebastian ordered, wasting no more time as Faustus simply stood there, for once looking bewildered.

The redhead immediately turned to knight Thompson, chainsaw at the ready, with a big grin on his face. With Thompson out, he would check Faustus and there was practically no escape for the white king from there – he had to fight. Except, the last of the triplets wasn't as useless as his brothers. He drew both a sword and a mace, but Grell saw only the blade, blocking it with his chainsaw. The mace hit his legs in the same time and, as they were standing on the edge of the chessboard, he stumbled and fell over, taken out of the game.

"Idiot…" Sebastian murmured with a scowl, while Grell gave an apologetic smile and shrugged his shoulders, dusting himself off. Now they'd failed to check the spider and the momentary advantage was lost.

"Rook to C8!" Faustus commanded. "Check!" he added, as his monstrous rook automaton threw the black bishop off the chessboard and there was now a single square between it and Espiritus. The black king was caught, he could move a square and escape for the moment, but it was obvious that the rook would pursue. "Damn it!" the crow demon grumbled.

"You could surrender and end this, Michaelis, you know?" Faustus offered, the shadow of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Sebastian looked back at his minion questioningly. The rook automaton was definitely a handful, a massive bulk of metal mercilessly wielding two razor sharp cleavers.

"No! Don't do it, you can't!" Will cried. "It will kill you, you can't!" he begged, looking pleadingly at the blonde black king.

"No, master. Let it come," Espiritus replied with a grin, the blonde already swinging her sword impatiently.

"You shouldn't do this, _Your Highness_…" Faustus warned in a singsong voice. "This will hurt, very badly"

"Awww, but I want to play, Claude!" 'Alois' replied in his most annoyingly spoiled tone, sticking his tongue out in the spider demon's direction. "Knight to C3!" Sebastian made his move in turn, drawing closer to Faustus. "Just don't fall off the chessboard like that idiot, will you?"

The spider snorted, shaking his head. "Very well, then. Rook to E8!" As the automaton advanced, its joints making a sinister creaking sound with each step, the petite blonde gave his sword a spin and lifted his heavy metal shield off the ground. The rounded edges were as sharp as any blade.

The two cleavers rose high in the air, only to be blocked by the black king's sword as they were forcefully brought down upon him, in turn the boy slamming his boot in the creature's torso, making it pull backwards. A full sideways blow with the heavy shield tore one of its arms off. „Ahahahaha, Claude, I'm having so much fun!" 'Alois' shouted, kicking the piece of metal in the spider's direction and making it glide as far as the middle of the chessboard. "Are _you_ having fun?" Much to Faustus' annoyance, his former contractor even began singing a stupid song, each word accompanied by alternating shield and sword blows, until eventually the headless rook was thrown off the game surface.

"Will, knight to E5!" Sebastian commanded.

They are closing in on Faustus, Ciel thought. He was dizzy as hell, but had managed to keep himself upright in a sitting position, again propping onto the two battle axes. Maybe he didn't have much time left, as he continued to lose blood, but at least he would live to see the end of the game. But Thompson had endured and he was dangerous. He was a demon and most likely Will couldn't take him on. Es had proven quite strong, but she was the king and couldn't move, not much and not fast. And they had one more rook and bishop, but they were blocked.

"Pawn to F3!" Faustus shouted in turn, trying to make a bit more space around himself so that he could move if necessary.

"Pawn to E6!" the crow demon said, doing the same for Es.

Another smirk grew on the white king's face as he observed his opponent's move. "Careless, careless…. Bishop to A3!" Now the remaining white bishop was directly threatening the black one next to Es.

"Damn… Will, knight to G4!" The olive-skinned servant padded in the indicated direction, a square away on Ciel's diagonal, mace at the ready. The clockwork pawn at F3 immediately attacked him, but was swept away in one blow.

"Bishop to F8!" Faustus indicated and, over the next two moves, the blacks lost both their remaining bishop and rook to the spider's gruesome automaton. Espiritus motioned angrily towards the white bishop now standing right next to her, although he was incapable of attacking, but Sebastian shook his head no. It was Faustus' turn to move again and he moved the same bishop to G7, directly threatening the crow demon.

"Fine, have it your way then," Sebastian agreed. "Knight to D1!" He went round the remaining two white pawns on Faustus' left, gracefully occupying the white square next to the spider, previously Hannah's place. "Come at me, Claude Faustus!"

But the spider demon had other plans, for he chose to move a square forward himself, avoiding the fight. Scowling, Sebastian walked back to C3. "Check!" Faustus moved again one square, reaching a position in which Will could now take him. But Will was no match for him and he was not moved, instead Sebastian drew backwards to D5. "Check again!"

_He's going for the king, he seeks a king to king confrontation, the bastard!_ Ciel knew, as Faustus escaped again, advancing yet another square. On the other hand, Sebastian was tiring of this fruitless chase. "Pawn to F6!" he growled. The remaining pawns were useless anyway, so at least he could complicate the spider's existence as he would – predictably – come closer. But Faustus disposed rapidly of the diagonal pawn and the one in front of him shared a similar fate, the white king now advancing to E6.

"Knight to E7!" Sebastian shouted in reply, blocking the other demon's way to his king. "Fight me, damn it!"

Faustus chuckled darkly in reply. "I don't think so, Michaelis… King to D7! Check!" The audience gasped – the black king was as good as trapped, while the black knight could do nothing to defend him now.

"Damn it! King to F-"

"You fucking bastard!" Espiritus yelled from behind him, interrupting and taking everyone by surprise. The edge of the heavy shield was promptly shoved into Faustus' face full force as she shouted, throwing him off balance. With Sebastian half in the way as the petite black king was conveniently hiding behind him, he couldn't aim for a blow, but the minion ducked and thrust her blade into his thigh, which was unprotected by armor. He groaned, but did not fall.

"Hey! What is going on there? This is against the rules!" the Master of Ceremonies shouted. "I demand a clean, king to king fight!"

"Could you go die in a hole, please? This is serious!" Sebastian offered, continuing to hinder Faustus' attacks. "Thank you very much for your understanding!"

The Master of Ceremonies shouted something in reply, angrily agitating his cane, but his voice was covered by the audience's cheers as Faustus received another blow with the shield, his sword flying from his hand as he dropped to his knees. Sebastian's hand moved discreetly to his collar, rummaging beneath his armor breastplate. His long fingers extracted Lady Ophelia's moon shaped pendant and he slipped it inside his fist.

"You wouldn't really do that to me, would you, _Your Highness_? For I think you love me still…"

The minion seemed to hesitate under the spider's pleading gaze, the blonde's stern and angry expression from earlier melting into one of deep sadness. From where he sat, Ciel could barely see her face, partly concealed by Sebastian's frame, but it was enough to be worrying. _Oh no… it can't be! Trancy's memories have finally taken over her, just as I feared all along! She won't strike him down, she can't do it! _The young earl closed his eyes in horror, waiting for Faustus to strike her instead and win the game.

"Fuck you, Claude!" There was a horrible swishing sound and, a moment later, Ciel blinked as the spider demon's head rolled onto the ground at Sebastian's feet.

"Damn it, Es, we weren't supposed to kill him, just wound him enough! The Council wanted him alive!"

"Well that's too bad… master"

* * *

This was the end. The young earl could no longer feel his body, which seemed to have frozen in that peculiar stance, but was no longer obeying him. He still breathed, undoubtedly out of reflex, yet felt no more air being drawn into his lungs. _After all, I have served the purpose Sebastian bought me for. He no longer has any need for me now…_

"Ciel, it's over," his master informed softly, kneeling beside his small, bloodied form and cupping his cheek with a warm hand. "It's done, we've got Faustus"

_And now what? _The boy's lips could not move anymore, only the blue orbs searched his master's crimson ones for the obvious answer. Sebastian leaned down, his hand still on Ciel's cheek, pressing his lips against his butler's.

"And now I will take your soul."

_**To be continued**_


	18. His love, given

**CHAPTER 18 **

A/N – Aaaaand here it is at last, the final chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

"The Council has made no objection to our… manner of delivery, milord. They have decided to pay us ten thousand for the job. That is the good news," the minion said. Her voice had returned to normal, it was good. Now there was no need for Trancy to ever manifest through her again.

"Sounds like there is some bad news as well? Let's hear it, then." Sebastian sounded jaded, as if he already knew what she was about to say. _How boring it must be, really, for someone to be _that_ perceptive and insightful?_

"Indeed, master – I'm afraid that the Undertaker's bill alone is twelve thousand and-"

"Ah, yes, the Undertaker…" he interrupted, predictably. "Now that he's made the mistake to come clean about being your father in some unlikely fit of sincerity, I suppose you could pass by his parlor later, make him some pancakes with cream, you know, be a good daughter… Maybe he'll give us a discount?"

"I shall try, milord… but it seems that either way this business too will prove an onerous affair, most unfortunately. One could say that Claude Faustus has fucked us from beyond the grave, however temporary that grave may be"

"Ugh!" The demon shifted between the sheets, hauling himself to sit upright in bed. "You are wrong, Espiritus. It is the Council who has fucked us, just like they _always_ do. And here you thought they'd be grateful for the free entertainment we've provided them with… Well, Hell forbid that they show any appreciation for all our work," he said dryly.

"Actually, milord, Consul Grimme did mention that it would have been a great game indeed, had we not cheated so blatantly at the last move… "the minion replied in a low voice. _A blatant cheat indeed, yet nothing less was to be expected from a demon…_

Sebastian snorted. "I disagree. All is fair in love and war, therefore I do not, I refuse to acknowledge their view on fairness. In fact, had I been as concerned as they seem to be of ethical issues, I most likely would have proven just as helpless as they have in handling the matter of Claude Faustus and bringing him to whatever justice they think they are doing here. And they can all kiss my ass, especially Consul Grimme!"

There was a long pause, while neither the demon nor his servant said anything.

"Come on, say it, Es. I know you think it, so you might as well let it out"

"Say what, master?"

"That I've really done it this time. And I have, haven't I?" Sebastian asked thoughtfully. It did seem to be more of a rhetorical question on his behalf though.

"Your suitors will be furious, if that's what you have in mind, milord. He's just a boy, how could you? Feeding him to the wolves like that…" _Grell is of no importance and he's screwed up in the game anyway, but Lady Ophelia's father is the Consul - this might lead to some unfortunate and even more onerous developments…_

"I have fed him to none but myself, I believe. As for my suitors, they can all go die in a hole, for all I care. I shall hear no more of this exhausting topic and if anyone asks, tell them just that – I am_ utterly_ exhausted by the recent events and no, they cannot visit! That being said, please bring us some light dinner and then see to the Undertaker business right away"

"Yes, milord"

"And _please_ do something about those two idiots below, they have been arguing since this morning! Honestly, do married people ever tire of fighting? It is a mystery which will forever elude me…"

Espiritus walked away, laughing and muttering something about how that particular mystery was good to be left that way, the door closing behind her with a light thud.

* * *

"Ciel, you must wake up… You've slept long enough," Sebastian said gently, his large palm resting onto the delicate shoulder of his petite butler, who lay curled up next to him under the sheets, facing the wall.

But the young earl had been awake for quite some time, acutely aware of everything going on around him. He could still hear Mrs. Jones mumbling below in the kitchen, even the disgusting ripple of the stew she was currently stirring into, he could hear Will outside feeding the innumerable crows and swearing at them with a passion. He could tell that Es had put a drop of perfume in her hair today, how her skin was so warm, the rush of her blood so incredibly alluring all the sudden, how her heart bore the relief of Faustus' death and the chagrin of her father's confession. It was so weird…

He wouldn't move, it was so much simpler to just lie there in a heap, analyzing all those new things, some frightening and others delightful, ignoring his body which now had as much consistency as a rag doll. But he was pulled from his tranquility, the other demon's strong yet very gentle hands lifting him into a sitting position against the soft pillows propped on the headboard. The boy's hands rested limply in his lap, over the silk nightshirt he was currently wearing and Sebastian lightly picked up one of them, running his thumb over the smooth, shiny nails which were now as black as his, humming approvingly.

"Did you enjoy it? Was it as good as you thought it would be?" Ciel murmured, now that they were alone at last, his gaze following his master's fingers. "My soul?"

"Yes"

"You said it would hurt… but there was nothing. I felt nothing." The boy used his free hand to paw at the places where his wounds had been and found nothing but healthy flesh, unmarred by as much as a bruise under the light, almost see-through fabric. The whiteness of it bothered him to some extent, black would have been much more comfortable under the circumstances.

Sebastian smiled. "You sound rather disappointed, my little lord. Indeed, there was magic at work and you were too weak at that point to feel anything, to even _be_ _aware_ of when I tore your chest open and ripped out that exquisite drop of divine essence which was your soul, but then again, it was never my purpose to inflict any pain. I only sought to collect my reward."

The mention of the gruesome treatment his body had been subjected to failed to impress the young earl altogether, for he had given up on himself a long time ago, but the demon's words did stir a certain curiosity in him. "If you have collected your reward, then why am I still alive?"

"It is because you belong to me, beyond the provisions of our contract. It appears things have just become complicated that way, for some reason. Are you disappointed in that also? Being still alive? Could it be that you finally loathe me now?"

The earl shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. "Even if you sucked my bones clean of flesh and licked the last drop of my blood I still could not get myself to loathe you. And I know you left a piece of my soul inside of me, it is but the tiniest crumble, but it is throbbing."

_And you wanted me to live and loathe you, because that's all you ever known, Sebastian, it is all you've ever learned to expect…I suppose it is rather sad. _The blue orbs looked up to search the dark crimson of his master's eyes, but they remained unreadable.

"I have never wanted anything but you and this is my punishment, this is my hell," the earl went on, his gaze dropping once more, "I have nurtured nothing but hatred, nothing but malice in my heart – I have been a horrible person, Sebastian. I could understand why you wouldn't put an end to my torment, but why have you done _this_, why make me this gift I don't deserve?"

Sebastian pulled at the hand he'd previously held so lightly, drawing the boy closer as he pressed it against his own chest. "Ciel, you and I are _horribly_ alike, if you will. You should have never felt yourself unworthy of me and it was never my intent to make you feel this way… But _this _was meant to happen, yet before that you had to see _me_ for what I truly am, before you could be even remotely prepared to see what _you_ would become. I wanted nothing but you too and I want nothing but you still, my little lord!"

The large, warm hand rose up to cup the boy's cheek tenderly. "But in this matter not even I would have been allowed to be deceitful. To be a demon is to be an abomination and I had failed to make that point clear enough before."

Sebastian slid out of bed and stood up, his tall, lean frame against the fading light pouring in through the bedroom window and pulled his own nightshirt over his head, shedding his usual human appearance along with the smooth silk of his garment. There was beauty and there was terror in his true form, naked but invulnerable, so naturally revealed before him, Ciel thought, like in the sudden realization of something one had been intuiting all along and which can only cause a peculiar sort of unsurprised awe. It made him feel weak and small, that form embodying everything he'd fiercely craved and terribly feared in the same time, yet his gaze did not shy away from it, no, it was glorious to behold.

"Will I still be your butler then?" the boy asked, a shy smile tugging at his lips this time.

"I am afraid not," came the reply as Sebastian mysteriously wiggled his fingers and seemed to produce a tiny velvet box out of nowhere. "Now lay back and relax…" His long fingers reached up and removed the skull shaped earring bud Ciel was wearing, before making the small box open with a soft pop. Inside, on white silk bedding, rested a single, tiny, dark shaded sapphire.

"With this I appoint you steward of my household, Ciel Phantomhive," he stated, replacing it in the boy's ear. "The _demon_ steward of my household"

The young earl's eyebrow shot up, questioningly. "What now? Promotion?" he asked, his grin widening visibly.

"It is for your achievements in the chess game," Sebastian explained solemnly. "And also because you were being the worst butler I've ever seen and I believe I have seen quite a few… This job should suit you better"

"Thank you, master." If Ciel could, he certainly would have blushed now.

"Come in!" the older demon said, as there was a light knock on the door, the gracious curves of his marvelous body now leaning onto the window frame remaining relaxed, doing nothing to shield themselves from view.

Espiritus walked in, carrying a tray with two cups, which she carefully placed onto the table near the bed without a word, entirely unfazed by her master's appearance, then bowed and made herself scarce just as quickly as she'd come.

"You must drink this, your body is still weak," Sebastian said, picking up one of the cups and returning to the bedside. Ciel glanced at the contents of the cup the demon was pushing towards his lips and instantly grimaced. _Blood_. "You must, little one. And it is rather enjoyable after the first sip"

The young earl was quite reluctant when the drink first touched his lips, but only a moment later he was clutching at the cup with both hands, gulping down the thick liquid greedily.

"Good, is it not?" Sebastian asked innocently, leaning down to lick a stray drop off the boy's lips after he'd emptied his own cup.

"More," Ciel murmured against his lips. "I need more"

"Yes… I believe you do," the older demon agreed, pushing himself up on the bed, away from the boy. His long sharp nail drew a cut into the pale column of his exposed throat, deep enough to let a few alluring crimson droplets ooze from it and begin to slide down onto the smooth skin. He let his head fall back with an elated sigh as Ciel's lips were instantly pressed onto the wound, with an obvious will to devour.

The taste of Sebastian's soul… how could he even begin to describe it? Spicy with passion, wickedly sweet, vaguely bitter with loneliness, a tad sour with perversity maybe, but none the less addictive. He was only allowed a furtive mouthful of that ultimate flavor though, yet the older demon already knew what it had done to him. What little will the earl had retained until now was utterly done for, he was now completely subdued to his master and maker.

Mouth capturing the boy's without warning, Sebastian's hand reached down, finding Ciel's foot and teasingly tickling the soft sole before running a thumb over the curled toes. His nimble fingers then advanced further up, drawing an appreciative caress along the slender leg, coming to rest just beneath the hem of the earl's nightshirt, onto his knee.

"Do you remember that dream I sent you, a little while ago?" he purred in his lover's ear. "I think now would be a good time to-"

"No!" Ciel pulled away, trying to free himself from his master's embrace, with a look of horror and disappointment on his face. "I- I thought… that you were finally going to… be gentle with me"

Sebastian let out a deep sigh, burying his nose in the boy's hair. "Ciel, you are a demon now, your body is stronger and more resilient than you think… And I have been as gentle as I could until now, but there really is no more need for it"

"If you do _that_ to me I'll die!"

"That's just ridiculous. Of course you won't die!" The older demon pushed Ciel back onto the mattress, then used the sharp claw of his index finger to slit through the silk of his nightshirt, exposing his milky white body entirely.

"I'll have you know that I don't agree to it, master!" the young earl objected, but failing to resist when his hips were being pulled at, his body ending up beneath the naked demon, who couldn't have been more amused by his words.

"Perhaps…" Sebastian replied, leaning down to graze his sharp teeth over the boy's sensitive nipples, "you should communicate this disagreement of yours to the rest of your body as well, because it appears to be 'thinking' otherwise…" But quite the opposite happened as that hot, devouring mouth steadily traveled south onto the earl's body, leaving a trail of small bites and bruising kisses. The softest, most sensual moan escaped the young earl's lips as his most vulnerable part was eventually engulfed in his lover's sharpest part, the dainty black nailed fingers now clawing impatiently at the older demon's shoulder blades, very nearly drawing blood. "Ahhhnnn…more! Please… more!"

Sebastian released his throbbing member with a soft pop and crawled upwards on top of him, lifting one of the boy's slender legs over his shoulder. "Like I said, _gentle_ is not for us…" he stated as he sheathed himself fully in one thrust, eliciting a small cry of pain from Ciel. But the earl's expression very soon turned into one of absolute bliss as he was pounded into, his eyes closed and deliciously biting his plump lower lip with small, needle sharp canines. His mouth found the boy's once more and Ciel bit into the kiss, eager to be fed some more of his master's essence.

"My, you have become quite a beast, my little lord," Sebastian complimented, pulling away teasingly from the other's mouth. "But am I supposed to be gentle while I am being torn to shreds? I don't think so…" he chuckled, reaching and digging the tips of his own claws into the young earl's lower back, making the small body arch further into him, meeting his powerful thrusts.

"Mmmmrowwww!" A deep throated, feline growl escaped Ciel's lips as he was sent over the edge, soon mixed with the other demon's own growls of release, as he dropped on top of the boy, panting hard. For a while after they both simply relished in the afterglow of their orgasm, silent, the little one's fingers ghosting over his master's muscular arm absentmindedly.

"You are forever mine, Ciel Phantomhive," Sebastian murmured, intertwining their fingers and placing a peck on the back of his steward's delicate hand.

Ciel sighed softly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of his lover's neck. Never again would his heart feel untouched.

**THE END**


End file.
